Broken
by NoseyHeiffer
Summary: Everyone has his breaking point. What happens when Severus Snape reaches his? When the consequences of an adolescent fling with his beloved Lily wreck havoc, who will be there for him when he is at his lowest point? This is a Snape-centric fic. Rated M to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel. She worked tirelessly to help me.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 1**

 **June 20, 1996**

The summer sun peaked from behind fluffy white clouds casting sporadic sunbeams across the staff room table. Although the house elves had prepared a mouthwatering breakfast, most of the staff only picked at the meal before them. The majority of them were still nursing a hangover courtesy of Filius Flitwick's annual "No More Kids" party. It had run far into the wee hours with more than one toast being offered to the removal of Dolores Umbridge.

"Good morning," Severus Snape called out unusually loudly and cheerfully as he entered the staff room. He slammed the door behind him and stomped around the table to his usual seat, the tread of his dragon hide boots ringing on the stone floor.

"What's your problem, Snape?" Minerva McGonagall growled at him. "You're never this cheerful."

"Whatever makes you think something is wrong with me?" he purred and casually tossed a wooden box onto the table. It landed with a loud, echoing thump.

"Bloody hell, Severus," Septima Vector complained. She was not nearly as capable of holding her whiskey as Minerva, and as a result she was still a little green in the face. "Would you just be a little quieter? Please?" She laid her head on the table top, her long hair pooling in her eggs.

Pomona Sprout rubbed a hand in circles on her colleague's back. "It's all right, Septima," she told her. "You'll feel better directly."

"It seems highly suspicious that all of the anti-hangover potions simply vanished from the castle," Charity Burbage declared suggestively.

"Does it now?" Snape gave them his most Grinch-like grin.

"I knew it!" Sinistra hissed. "You took them all. What do you plan to do? Sell them back to us?"

"No, Aurora," Dumbledore muttered, holding one hand to his forehead. "It seems that our previous Headmistress removed all hangover remedies from the school. She believed that any student foolish enough to drink deserved what he got." He squinted in the bright sunlight. "As for staff members, she was of the opinion that we should set the highest example for our students, and that it was unseemly for a teacher ever to indulge in drink -"

At that moment, Irma Pince snarled, "Just another bureaucratic sycophant! I've seen her like all my life."

"- in fact, one of her many decrees - one which I found to still be in effect as of this morning - issued special sanctions against any shop in Hogsmeade which dared to sell anyone from Hogwarts a hangover cure," the Headmaster continued.

"Yes, but she's no longer of any consequence to us," Severus declared, his warm baritone overly loud, "and neither are her decrees." The corner of his lip quirked upward in a semi-smile, and he lowered his voice. "Do open the box, Aurora."

A gleam of Slytherin pride sparkled in Aurora's coffee colored eyes. She snatched the box to herself and jerked the lid off. "Hangover potion!" she cried. Pulling out a vial of the purplish liquid, she popped the cork and downed the contents. "Oh, Severus, I'd kiss you if I didn't think you'd hex me for it!" She quickly pushed the box towards her co-workers.

"Up all night brewing, I see," Dumbledore remarked, chuckling. "And with a hangover of your own, no doubt." He took one of the vials. "Ah, and I see you've managed to improve the taste as well."

"Thank you, Severus," Irma Pince said quietly as a chorus of voices echoed her sentiment. "You're a very thoughtful young man."

"Ah, ah - not so fast," Minerva said gently, "what is it you want?"

Again, Severus smiled. "Perhaps the Headmaster may finally agree that it's time Hogwarts had a real Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor," he trailed off, and turned to face the Headmaster. His coal black eyes sparkled as if diamonds were hidden in their depths.

Albus Dumbledore ran a hand down his beard thoughtfully. He nodded slowly and said, "Yes, you may be right, Severus. Now that Tom has made his presence firmly known, we'll be seeing war fairly soon, I'm afraid."

At this moment, the room was flooded with owls. "However, we'll discuss that and the usual end-of-school routine after we finish our breakfast and mail."

"Well, would you look at that!" Filius Flitwick exclaimed, pointing out a very large raven winging its way through the window.

Dusty and tired, the raven settled in front of Severus and waited patiently while the Potions Master unwrapped a note from its leg. Once delivered, the message enlarged itself to standard parchment size, and the raven hopped expectantly towards Snape's plate. "Caw!" it exclaimed.

"Extraordinary!" Flitwick cried. "An elegant piece of charm work on that scroll."

"And a lovely bird," Hagrid said with a nod of appreciation. "Here ya go." He heaped a plate full of bacon and eggs and pushed it towards the ebony bird.

"Caw!" croaked the bird. It quickly hopped towards the plate to eat.

"Extraordinary!" Dumbledore echoed. "Who sent such a beautiful creature -"

The bird paused in eating and looked up at Dumbledore. Cocking its head to the side, it uttered one word. "Poe!"

"That your name?" Hagrid asked. He reached out a large hand to gently smooth the dust from the dark wings until the feathers shone a deep blue-black.

Twisting its head around towards Hagrid, the bird slowly nodded and returned to the plate.

"Well, Severus," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "what is it that Poe has brought you?"

"Might I be allowed to read my mail own mail?" Snape replied with more than a touch of ire. He then ducked his head, hiding behind a wall of hair as dark as the raven's wings, and read:

Master Severus T. Snape

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The Highlands, Scotland, UK

June 18, 1996

Dear Master Snape:

Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Merle A. Harper, and I'm from Dillard, Texas, USA. Having just graduated with my Master's degree in Potions and Herbology at Marie Laveau University, I am now seeking to further my education by obtaining a Doctorate degree.

My knowledge of the field is not all academic; I do have hands-on experience. My mother owned a small but successful potions and herb business (potions, scents, soaps, minor remedies, etc.), and I spent a great deal of my time helping her with brewing as well as growing and harvesting many ingredients. I have also studied healing with a local hoodoo root-doctor.

Master Snape, you are well-known and highly respected in the Potions community. You're also known to be demanding and exacting. Having grown up on a farm, I am no stranger to hard work and long hours. Sir, I can think of no one living from whom I could get a better education. I would be honored if you would accept me as your apprentice. I have taken the liberty of including a copy of my academic transcript.

I look forward to hearing from you to discuss the terms of apprenticeship.

Thank you,

Merle A. Harper

"And?" Minerva questioned him when he tossed the scroll down. "Don't keep us wondering. What's the paper say?"

"None of your business," he snapped.

"Oh, Severus," Dumbledore answered, "there's no need to be rude. Nor is there any need to push the boy, Minerva. He'll tell us when he's ready, won't you, Severus?"

A frown on his face, Severus snorted and shook his head. "Some American chap has finished his potions degree and wants to apprentice with me so he can obtain his mastery."

"That's a wonderful idea, Severus," Minerva suggested.

"It is not," he countered quickly. "I'll not be teaching potions this year." He looked at Dumbledore meaningfully. "And, in any case, I haven't the time to deal with him."

"Oh, don't write him off so quickly, Severus," Minerva said. "If we're going to be needing another potions professor anyway-" She appealed to Dumbledore. "-perhaps the young man could work on his apprenticeship while filling in the potions position. We'll certainly need a competent brewer, and potions degrees are as rare as hen's teeth these days."

"And you'd just hire this bloke like that?" Snape blurted out. "How do you know he isn't a follower of the Dark Lord?"

The librarian shook her head sadly. "Oh, Severus, why must you always see the worst side of everything?"

Dumbledore nodded. "A valid idea, Minerva," he said. "Severus, do you mind?" He reached for the scroll. "I'll have Aurors Moody and Shacklebolt check him out. If his background is clear and his CV is acceptable, I may need to hire to fill the potions position." He looked over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Is there anything more before we leave? No? Good. Then please complete your regular end of the year check list and return it to Minerva before you go. Have a wonderful summer, and I shall see you all again in late August."

"Minerva," Flitwick called out, "here are our check lists. Pomona and I finished up before the children left. Come along, Pet," Flitwick said, as he held out the chair for Pomona Sprout. "If we hurry, we can catch the earlier portkey."

"Goodbye, everyone," Pomona called out. She grasped Filius' hand. "Paris here we come."

"Auora," Charity Burbage called out, "are you going up to London for the big Muggle football match? I can't wait!"

"Not exactly," she said with a smile. "Oh, I'm going up to town, yes, but not for a football match."

"She's not into that sort of sport, hey?" her friend, Septima Vector, said with a laugh.

"I'll say," Sinistra laughed. "I'm more into hunting - man hunting, that is."

"How about you, Severus," Charity asked.

"No," he said slowly, "muggle sporting events are an inane waste of my time." He sniffed. "I'm in the process of selling Spinner's End," he added, "and I've a few last things to pack."

Aurora Sinistra raised an eyebrow. "You've been talking of selling it for a while. Are you finally going through with it?"

"Indeed," he declared. "That place is full of nothing but bad memories. I've finished all of the suggested repairs except for repainting. I'll get that done this week."

"All work for you then?" Charity asked.

"Not at all," he replied. "I'm going to see The Who at the Prince's Trust concert, before returning to sort out the rest of my things."

Septima raised an eyebrow. "I'd never have pegged you for a rock fan," she said. "I'd have thought you were into classical music."

"I do like classical," he said, "but I have fond memories of The Who." He smiled briefly. "I first saw them in '76, and I never miss a concert if at all possible." He left the room without another word. It wasn't until he reached the security of his classroom that he allowed himself a bitter-sweet smile and to remember that first concert

As he sorted through classroom items, throwing away those things damaged beyond use and updating his inventory, he thought back to the winter of 1976. He sat down at this desk, pulled out some paperwork and stared at it. Sighing, he allowed his mind to drift back to his first and only official date with Lily. He'd scraped and saved for months to get tickets to see The Who, her favorite group. Everything had been perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel. She worked hard.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 2 -** Severus' Flashback

 **DECEMBER 1, 1975**

"Merry Christmas and happy birthday!" Severus said softly with a tiny, shy smile. In his hands was a small, poorly wrapped box with a giant red bow which he held out to Lily.

"Shh!" Emmeline Vance hissed in annoyance. " _Some_ of us are trying to study!"

He cast the other girl a frown of annoyanace. "If _some_ of you hadn't waited so late to prepare for McGonagall's final exam, _some_ of you wouldn't be scrambling like the idiot you obviously are in a vain attempt to pass," he retorted.

Standing behind him, Lily Evans ducked her head and giggled at this exchange. She waved her hand at the Ravenclaw and pulled Severus towards the back corner of the library. Smiling, she took the gift he offered her and held it a moment.

"Thank you, Sev," she whispered in confusion, "but my birthday isn't until the end of -"

"I know, Lily," he answered softly. "I know exactly when your birthday is. Your birthday is January 30, 1960, just twenty-one days after mine."

She frowned, little furrows on her brow. "I don't understand, then," she said.

"Open it," he urged gently.

"All right," she agreed, pushing back her long red hair. Eagerly, Lily opened the box, tearing the paper in her excitement. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Sev!" Squealing with delight, she threw her arms around Severus and hugged him.

With pounding heart and shaking arms, Severus returned her hug, clinging to the girl he loved. In his most secret dreams, he had fantasized about her hugging him, kissing him. He closed his eyes, leaned his head down, and inhaled deeply; her glorious red hair smelled of strawberries.

Suddenly, she drew back and, jumping up and down in delight, waved the tickets in the air. "Two tickets to see The Who!" she cried.

"And not just that," he added smugly. "There's also dinner before the event." He stooped to retrieve the box and wrapping. Smiling, he watched her dancing with happiness. He felt strong and proud like a knight in shining armor.

"I thought the London show was sold out. Oh, Sev, how did you manage it?" she said, looking up at him with her brilliant green eyes.

Severus melted. "It was," he admitted, "but I was able to find these." He moved closer to her, pointing out the date and location on the tickets. "I want to take you there, Lily," he explained. His voice was dark and low. "Just the two of us," he murmured.

Lily, like several other young ladies, was quite captivated by his recently changed voice, and she smiled, leaning towards him. "I'd love to go with you, Sev," she replied in a decidedly flirtatious tone. She linked arms with him. "How did you ever manage to do it? I know they must have cost a fortune!"

He preened with masculine pride, puffing out his thin chest. "Well, I just pulled a few strings," he said nonchalantly as he turned to face her. Then, lowering his voice, he added, "You know I'd do anything for you, Lily. You're my -"

She froze, anger beginning to blaze in her eyes. "Pulled some strings?" she questioned him. "By that, I suppose you mean that you got one of your Junior Death Eater buddies to get them!" She jerked away.

"Lily, I swear to you that I paid for those tickets myself," he answered sharply. He crossed his heart. When she snorted and turned away from him, crossing her arms angrily, Severus moved around and took her gently by the elbows. "Lily, I did," he whispered insistently. "I paid for everything." He sighed when she showed no signs of relenting. "All right," he conceded, "I asked Lucius if he could get them for me, but, I swear, I shelled out every pound and pence for those tickets. Lucius just made sure they were available for me."

"And that's all?" she huffed skeptically.

He inhaled, held the breath for a moment, and then let go. "And Cissy offered us her apartment in London if we wanted to stay over."

"Oh, really? The great Narcissa Black has agreed to allow a little peon, Muggle-born like me to stay in her grand home?"

"Yes, Lily," he sighed, shaking his head sadly. "All Slytherins aren't bad, you know. I keep telling you. Cissy isn't like the others."

She stared at him with brittle, angry eyes until his shoulders dropped in defeat. Then, she relented. "All right, Sev," she told him. "I believe you."

He jerked his head up. "Thank you, Lily," he breathed. "You don't know -"

"Which doesn't mean that I like the fact that you're spending so much time with those evil monsters," she added angrily. "I've warned you before, Sev. If you keep hanging out with them, I can't be your friend."

"Lily," he said gently, "I wish -"

"No," she insisted forcefully, "we will not discuss this. Not now, not ever."

"What did your parents say?" Severus asked. He took her overnight bag, placing it next to his in the back seat of the Spitfire, and held open the door for her.

"You're driving, too?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes," he replied shortly. "I've got a phony driver's permit. It helps to be tall." The corner of his lip quirked upward into a half-grin. Severus ran around and quickly climbed inside, cranking up the car and turning on the heater.

Lily smiled as she climbed into the front seat. "Wow, Sev," she said as she ran her hand over the plush leather upholstery. "Where did you get the bloody marvelous car?"

He paused and turned to look her. "It's Cissy's," he told her. "And before you get upset, she said to tell you that she doesn't care if you're Pure-blood, Muggle-born, or a plain Muggle. She said that as long as you're my friend, that is enough for her."

He turned forward, putting the car in gear. Silence filled the car for a few miles until Severus could no longer stand it. "Lily, please," he said softly, darting his eyes at her, "don't me angry with me. I only wanted everything to be perfect tonight."

She sighed. "I'm not angry, Sev. I just don't like those Death Eaters with their Pure-blood trash." She turned sideways in the seat to look at him. "You know they're evil. How can you stand to even be around them is -"

"Lily," he interrupted her, "I keep telling you; Cissy isn't that way, and anyway, let's not fight, all right?"

Again there was silence for a bit. "So, um, what did your parents say? I mean, obviously they were okay with letting you go overnight with me. I'm honored that they would trust me."

Lily burst into laughter. "Oh, Sev," she said lightly. "You don't suppose I told them I was going away with a boy overnight, did you?"

"B-but, Lily," he stammered, his heart leaping into his throat, "your da, he'll kill me when he finds out!"

" _If_ he finds out," she corrected him. "Which he won't, because I told them I was going to sleep over and go to the concert with Mary. She's covering for us."

Secretly shocked, he huffed. "Lying to your parents is wrong, Lily," he murmured.

"Just what kind of Slytherin are you?" she retorted. "Besides, it's not like you've never lied to your parents."

"Well," he conceded, "yeah, I've lied to them, but they don't count because they could care less about me. _Your_ parents, though, Lily, they love you and seem to care about me, too. I wouldn't want to do anything to disappointment them."

"You aren't turning Hufflepuff on me, are you?" she teased, laughing while he sputtered in a false show of indignation. "If you're scared of my parents, I'll just have to be brave enough for both of us."

 **December 23, 1975 London - The Who Concert**

The audience was on its feet dancing to the last song. Severus at long last held Lily in his arms as they swayed to the music. He pulled her close to him and dared to join in on the final chorus, singing in a surprisingly good baritone. "No one knows what it's like / To be the bad man / To be the sad man."

Lily snuggled into his neck, inhaling the wonderful scent of English Leather. She melted at the richness of his voice. "Mmm," she whispered in his ear, tickling him. "I didn't know you could sing, Sev." She pulled back enough to see his face.

He smiled with genuine happiness. "Only for you, Lily," he told her. "I'd do anything for you." He reached up and caressed her cheek, cupping face between his rough hands. "Lily, you have to know by now that I l-"

She knew instinctively what he was going to say. She knew that he loved her; heck, everyone at Hogwarts knew that he loved her. But she didn't want to hear it. Oh, she loved Sev, very much, but just not in the way he wanted. "Don't, Sev," she whispered. She laid two fingers against his lips, stopping his words.

The disappointment, bordering on despair, that coalesced in his eyes undid her. Maybe, maybe if she really tried, she could learn to love him. He adored her, worshiped the ground she walked on. He was a good guy, really, and would do anything to make her happy. She could certainly do a lot worse. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she leaned in and kissed him.

Severus' momentary disappointment was eclipsed by the sudden joy. Her lips, so warm and inviting, lifted him to the heights of heaven. His mind whirled; his heart pounded. He couldn't believe that all of his hopes were coming true. Lily was kissing him. Of her own free will! Surely she must love him as he loved her! He pulled her tightly against him and dared to deepen the kiss.

Lily responded at once. This kiss, her first _real_ kiss, ignited her blood and excited her Gryffindor nature. She poured all her youthful passion and enthusiasm into it. Only a desperate need for oxygen drove the two teenagers apart.

"Save it for the bedroom!" a big man called at them with a hearty laugh as he walked past.

The young couple, still holding hands, dipped their heads in embarrassment. Then with a soft laugh and a slight giggle, they dared to look at each other. Their eyes met and held for a long moment.

"Interfering arse," muttered Severus darkly, his face still flaming with equal parts passion and indignity.

Lily, her face equally red, leaned forwards and dared to breathe the words, "Why don't we?"

His eyes shot wide open in surprise and shock. "Lily!" he cried.

Her green eyes gleamed wickedly. "Well, why not? It's not like you haven't thought about it." She paused to link her arm through his, guiding him towards the outside of the concert hall. "And I _know_ I'd like to do a little more kissing. You kiss really, really good, Sev."

Squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest, Severus strutted like a one of Lucius' peacocks. He held open the door for her and led the way to the car park.


	3. Chapter 3

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 3**

 **June 29, 1996**

The concert was ending, and the crowd was still awed by The Who. Hyde Park was packed so tightly, it was hard to move except in time with the music. As the final song wound down, the lyrics to "Love, Reign O'er Me" still ringing in his ears, a tall man turned and slowly made his way through the throng. Using his height to his advantage, he pushed several concert goers aside as he moved towards the outskirts of the crowd.

He was a study in black: tight black jeans, plain black T-shirt, black leather boots, and black leather jacket. Even his hair, pulled back in a low ponytail, gleamed black. There was a distinct feeling of danger about the man. His press through the multitude caused many to turn around with a frown and sharp word, but when they saw his black eyes, flashing with an air of menace, they quickly apologized.

It had been a long day, a long day but a good one, for Severus Snape, and he so rarely had good ones any more. He'd finished the latest batch of Wolfsbane for Lupin earlier than he thought, and he'd already delivered it with plenty of time left to get to the concert.

He'd never missed a chance of seeing The Who in concert. He'd been a great fan since his first time way back in 1976. That memory brought a genuine smile of happiness to his face. If Only -

Severus shook his head, snapping himself out of the reverie, and was amazed to find tears coursing down his cheeks. Angry at himself for the lapse, he scrubbed all traces of the wet embarrassment from his face. A sigh escaped him, and he pushed that thought to the back. No sense in wallowing in it yet again.

He checked the time on his wristwatch, one of the few nice things of his father's that he'd kept. There was enough time to apparate to that hovel he used to call home, collect his things, and meet the realtor. Then he could be off for a good a dinner and a few drinks at his favorite Muggle pub.

When the market turned and the hip young crowd - those with more money than sense, in his estimation - decided to buy up old homes in former mill towns and renovate them, he'd jumped at the chance to unload that heap at Spinner's End. A chance to lose a multitude of bad memories, make himself less available to the Dark Lord, and turn a hefty profit on his family dump was more than he could pass up. His books and the few belongings he cared to take with him were packed and ready to be moved to his dungeon apartment at Hogwarts. Now all he had to do was meet the agent there to turn over the keys and collect his things.

He'd reached the edge of the car park, heading towards the row of public toilets from where he could apparate unseen, when he heard the cat-calls and whistles.

"Oi, get a room, you two!" one fellow called out.

"Got a hot one there, brother!" another called out. "Need any help?" Coarse comments and laughter followed.

 _Not my problem_ , Severus thought acidly, _not my problem, not my problem._ He clenched his jaw, his molars grinding. He inhaled, twice, snorted and shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. _Keep walking, just keep walking_ , he told himself.

Then he heard it - the woman's cry. Her words were slurred. She'd obviously been drinking. A lot. But there was no mistaking the tone of fear hidden behind her false bravado, and he knew he'd have to intervene.

"Will," she cried, "shhtop! Na, I doanwanna."

"Aw," the man's voice sounded out, "it's all right. I'm sorry. Here take another drink, and you'll be fine."

Severus' frowned deepened. He'd heard that line before. Enough! He stopped and shoved his way back to confront the couple. He tagged the man on the back of the shoulder. "I believe the woman said 'no'," he spoke up loudly, "Leave her alone."

Will, a young man about twenty years old, jerked around, facing his opponent. Although he stood shorter than the man in the black jacket by several inches, he outweighed him by a couple of stones. The man called Will was athletic; that much was plain, but he seemed somehow out of touch with his bulging muscles, as if he didn't know exactly what they were for. His hair, a sandy brown, was ruffled, obviously from struggling with the girl. His fashionable leather trousers and heeled boots looked ridiculous with his dress shirt, silk tie, and sports jacket.

Something was very wrong here. Snape narrowed his eyes.

Will's face wavered, and his eyes, wide with shock, seemed to change colors behind his glasses. A quick, uncertain smile of conciliation covered his face when he saw the man confronting him. He wanted no problems tonight. "No, no, no, brother," the man's oily voice protested, "you've got it all wrong." He stood, opening his arms wide, trying to hide the girl behind him. Tiny beads of perspiration gleamed on his brow. "The burd's a daughter of a good friend, see? She ran off with her boyfriend last week. We've been searching for her, and I've finally tracked her down. I'm trying to take her back home is all, see?"

Snape grunted and pushed the fellow to the side. He wanted to see the truth of things for himself. A petite young woman was leaning back unsteadily against the open door of the classic '76 Triumph. She was wearing a silver, sequined halter top that just barely covered her breasts, and her tiny, tight black leather skirt was simply indecent. Her face, hidden behind a mass of chestnut colored curls, was buried inside a red cup as she drank deeply, and when she looked up, her honey brown eyes were wide. But there was a crooked grin plastered across her face.

"Oh," she said with a drunken giggle, "hello, 'feshor." Hermione Granger staggered forward, barely catching herself from falling by grabbing hold of Snape's jacket. She looked up at him from under her lashes, her eyes dilated by more than alcohol. "Havna sheen ya in frever. Shmell nihsh." She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against his chest.

He grabbed the cup from Granger's hand and sniffed it. "Don't lie to me!" he hissed coldly. "You've drugged her!" Holding the girl with his left arm, he dropped the cup and snatched Will towards him. His fist balled up in the front of the man's shirt, he demanded in a low threatening tone, "What did you give her?"

Fear descended on Will as he faced the man across from him, and the skin of his face began to bubble and run like melting crayons. But he had the presence of mind to strike first. Slamming a beefy fist into Snape's nose and shoving him back, he leaped over the fallen couple, and jumped into his green Spitfire. He gunned the engine and fishtailed out of the car lot before Snape could even stand.

One hand on his bloodied and broken nose and the other around an intoxicated Miss Granger, Severus staggered and dragged them both into the nearby toilet and apparated them both to Spinner's End.

They were covered in his blood when they appeared in the middle of the sitting room at Spinner's End. Snape shoved the girl onto the sofa with a bellowed order. "Sit!" Then, taking the stairs two at a time, he headed for the loo to wash away the blood and assess the damage. He sighed in disbelief as he cast a quick _evanesco_. _Damn it! It's broken again_ , he muttered. Dabbing on some bruise paste, he cast a quick _episkey_ in time to hear the front doorbell ring. _That must be the realtor_ , he thought as he hurried down the stairs.

 _Sweet Merlin! Can this day get worse?_ he wondered as he stood frozen on the bottom step surveying the scene. On one side of the doorway stood the brown frizzle head of a swaying, drunken Hermione Granger, her face and top covered in his blood. Opposite the girl stood the black frizzle head of a sneering, insane Bellatrix Lestrange.

Jerking himself free of the heavy, leather coat, he threw it around the younger witch. "I told you to sit in there," he ordered her, pushing her back into the sitting room. Hopefully, neither woman recognized the other.

"Severus," Naricssa Malfoy stepped forward, "I'm sorry to intrude on your evening." She hesitated, casting a concerned glance at the sitting room. "But I'm desperate. Could you spare me a moment of your time?"

Severus breathed deeply through his battered nose and held open the door for the sisters to enter. He closed the door behind them and moved to stand with his back to the sitting room barring their entry to that room.

"Lovely date," sneered Bellatrix. She stood on tip-toes, trying to see around him.

Narcissa shot her sister a look of mild annoyance. "Severus," she said appealing to him, "Lucius has just been sentenced to Azkaban, and the Dark Lord has punished him by ordering Draco to -"

"Honored him, Cissy," Bellatrix corrected her sister. "He's gifted Draco with a mission of honor, a chance to redeem the Malfoy name!"

Smiling sadly at her mad sister, Mrs. Malfoy turned pleading eyes on Snape. "Draco," she whispered tearfully, "has been given the distinct 'honor' of killing Potter's Muggle-born friend. If Draco fails to kill her, the Dark Lord has threatened to kill me." She broke down, and tears eased from her eyes in a gentile, lady-like way. "He's just a boy, Severus, a frightened boy. Please help him."

 _Why do I always have to jump to assist some lady in distress? I'm no knight in shining armor! And twice in one night? Un-fucking-believable!_ "Cissy," he sighed, "I'll do what I can, but -"

"Words, sister, slick words!" Bella complained. "Make the un-" But the ringing of the front bell interrupted her.

"I'm sorry," he said smoothly, with hidden relief, "that is my realtor. I've sold this house and must be out today." He stepped quickly to the door and opened it. "Ah, Mr. DeGrance, thank you for coming. If you'll just give me a moment to see these ladies out and grab my things-" He held open the door.

As she left, Bellatrix hissed, "I told you, Cissy! It was all just a waste of time like I told you!"

Narcissa hesitated at the threshold. "I know you will do what you can to help Draco, Severus," she told him. She paused. "There's just one other thing I need if you would."

Severus glared at LeStrange in ill-concealed disgust. Ignoring her completely, he focused on Narcissa. "What do you need, Cissy?" he asked softly.

"I'm emptying my London flat. The one I gave Lucius when we married, remember? He has been using it, and I'm afraid of what might be found there if the Aurors decide to search. He wouldn't tell me what was there, only that there were things that I, as a lady, shouldn't be concerned with." She paused, and he nodded in understanding. "I've got to find a home for his special house elf. You'd be doing me a great favor to accept her."

"Cissy," he complained, but she cut him off.

"Her name is Weena, and she's already waiting for you at Hogwarts." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Severus." Then she swept from the room like a grand lady.

With a string of profanity that would make any hardened dockworker blush in shame, Severus Snape materialized at the gates of Hogwarts. Hermione had passed out on the sofa in his sitting room, and he'd been obliged to heft her over his shoulder in order to apparate with her. It was bad enough he'd had to _oblivate_ the realtor, but now he was stuck with the snoring Gryffindor as well.

He'd debated on whether or not to take her home, but in the end he'd decided that it would be best for Madam Pomfrey to check on the girl first. And with what the girl was wearing, he thought it better for a female faculty member, preferably McGonagall, to take her home. Really! The clothes the girl was almost wearing! She was only one proper sneeze away from naked! He flicked his wand, opening the locked gates, and then relocking them once they'd passed through.

The school was quiet as he trudged his way into the Great Hall, heading towards the infirmary. Suddenly, out of the stillness, a silvery, transparency began to form. Dumbledore's phoenix patronus flew around Severus' head, calling out to him. "Severus, I have an emergency. I need you in my office! Hurry!"

"Weena!" he cried out, and was grateful to see a little elf appear.

Fragile and spindly looking, the tiny creature looked utterly terrified. "Yes, sir, Potions Master, Master, sir, what Weena can do?"

Scowling, Snape settled the girl, who was covered in his coat for decency's sake, onto the floor. "Take care of the girl," he ordered. Then he ran towards the Headmaster's office without looking back.


	4. Chapter 4

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 4**

 **June 30, 1996**

Severus Snape had returned from the Headmaster's office exactly one hour ago, and he'd been drinking ever since. A constant tapping at his door filtered through his whiskey fogged brain, and he stumbled his way over, knocking down his jacket and some scraps of fabric still covered in blood. It left a dark smear on the floor. _Damn_ , he thought, _another thing to clean up_. Opening the door wide, he peered down the corridor, seeing nothing.

A flutter of movement in the darkness startled him, and he lurched back, falling over the soiled clothing and spilling the whiskey all over his T-shirt. He leapt to his feet as nimbly as the alcohol allowed, locked and warded his quarters, and spun around in a less than graceful manner to see a raven perched on the arm of his sofa.

Severus snorted with irritation. He set down the empty whiskey tumbler and removed his soaked shirt, throwing it onto the heap already piled on the floor. Heaving a sigh, he removed the parchment from raven's leg. "Poe," he muttered, "what a ridiculously obvious name for a raven. The boy must have no imagination."

"Caw!" the bird complained. Flapping its wings, it flew a circle around the room and vanished.

With a frown sour enough to curdle milk, Snape watched as the parchment again enlarged itself. Then he opened the scroll and read it.

Master Severus T. Snape

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The Highlands, Scotland, UK

June 27, 1996

Dear Master Snape:

Thank you for accepting me as an apprentice. I will be arriving Monday, August 26 in Hogsmeade.

I'm also sending a duplicate of this letter to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore in acceptance of his offer of employment.

I look forward to meeting you and the staff.

Sincerely,

Merle A. Harper

He snorted, balled up the parchment, and squeezed it tightly in his left hand. This American chap was no doubt some spoiled rotten Colonial Malfoy! No imagination, that was a certainty. Mum and dad probably bought his degree! Probably he'd had all the breaks in his charmed little life.

Why was it that some blokes had such an easy life while others had to struggle? His head pounded and his throat ached from unshed tears. Why was his life shite? What had he ever done to deserve such pain, heartache, misery?

Would Fortune or Fate or what-have-you ever cut him a break? Abusive childhood home life, wretched poverty, traumatic teenage years - With a casual wave of his wand, he refilled the glass with ice and whiskey, and took another drink.

Where had he left off? Oh yes, his depressing life. Honestly, though, he couldn't really say that all of it was some colossal cosmic conspiracy against him. He'd made enough crap-arsey choices on his own. Joining the Dark Lord being the first, last, and foremost of those. Those were the choices that had driven his Lily away.

Her marriage to Potter, her death - He made no effort to stop the tears that flowed down his face - At that thought, he tossed back his glass of whiskey and refilled it. Brushing haphazardly at the tears with his arm, he swallowed.

The only right thing it seemed he'd ever done was his subsequent self-imposed servitude to Dumbledore and his atonement in teaching. But that only seemed to counter-balance his acceptance of the Dark Mark, his abasement to the Dark Lord, and all that that entailed.

The only bright spot in his meaningless life had been Lily. His beautiful Lily and earning his potions mastery. He'd been so proud the day he received his degree! One of the youngest ever to receive a master's degree. He'd rushed to find her, to show her what he'd done, done without any help from anyone. He'd hoped desperately that this shining achievement would win her back. And what did he find? She'd married James bloody Potter. On the very day, he'd accepted his diploma she'd accepted Potter's wedding ring.

In a sudden fit of violence, he threw the glass against the wall. The crashing of glass and the dripping of some very expensive alcohol did nothing to alleviate his melancholy. It only served as a reminder of every other thing in his life he'd smashed, ruined, destroyed simply by being alive. He couldn't even consider offing himself! He'd given an unbreakable vow to Dumbledore to protect Potter. Well, that, and his burning desire for revenge against that vile creature that had killed his Lily.

And, now what had Dumbledore asked of him? He asked him to kill him. The closest thing he'd ever had to a loving parent had asked him to commit cold blooded patricide! What kind of twisted, sick - No, he wouldn't revisit those thoughts.

Sighing, he conjured another glass and refilled it, quickly gulping its contents and refilling it yet again for the - what? Fifth, sixth time? It didn't matter any way. He was already disgustingly drunk.

Still, he swirled the amber fluid over the ice. How, he wondered, would his life have turned out if he'd had a decent beginning? Maybe by starting with parents who'd wanted him, parents who cared about him? Grandparents, on either side, who cared enough to get involved?

That would have certainly made his life far easier from the outset. He'd have had an easier time through school, no doubt, with loving, supportive parents, an extended family. Perhaps with that bit of love, he wouldn't have needed to join the Death Eaters to find acceptance.

Maybe Lily would have loved him for all time like she did that night after The Who concert. Maybe it would have been his ring she wore, his child she carried. Maybe, just maybe. He closed his eyes tightly, tears beginning to leak from them, and remembered the day when all of his hopes and dreams had vanished like smoke.

 **June 1976**

Lily frowned as she stepped out into the corridor and crossed her arms. "You asked for me?" she asked in a frosty tone.

"Lily," he sighed, trembling with fear. "I just want to say how terribly, terribly sorry I am and to beg you to -"

"Yeah," she interrupted. "That's what Mary said. Okay, you've said your apology. Thank you very much. Have a nice life." She turned right back around and headed towards the door.

"Lily!" he cried, grabbing her hand. Tears pooled in his dark eyes and slid down his cheeks. "Please, Lily, you can't just leave me like this." He swallowed past the hard lump in his throat. " _I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just —_ "

Lily snatched her hand away. " _Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends - You see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"_

 _His mouth opened and closed it without speaking._

 _"I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, and I've chosen mine."_

"No," he whispered, his beautiful voice raspy with emotion. "Lily, don't you see. Except for you, they're my only friends, the only people who have ever been nice to me."

"Only because they want something," she scoffed. "They are using you, Sev! And now you're in so deep with them that - " She paused, her anger giving way to icy indifference. "Look, you've shown your true colors. I'm done with you, Severus Snape." With that last announcement, she stormed back past the Fat Lady into the Gryffindor common room.

 **June 30, 1996**

He opened his eyes and angrily brushed the tears away. Life wasn't fair. Although he still loved her, he could now admit that he was angry with her, too. He knew that he had been in the wrong - wrong to call her that detestable name, wrong in his choice of friends, wrong maybe even to be born. But he never could understand why she refused to forgive him, at least to speak with him, why she just threw away a friendship of nearly nine years like that. He'd have given up everything for her, and she wouldn't forgive him one mistake. A big one, it was, but still!

If she truly loved him, like he loved her, wouldn't she forgive him? Throughout the years he'd taught here at Hogwarts, he'd seen other couples commit what he would consider unpardonable trespasses against each other. Some partners refused to forgive, broken their commitments, never to speak to each other again, just like Lily. Others, though, forgave the offense, and their love only became the stronger for it.

He snorted and peered at the clock on the mantle through a dismal drunken haze. It was nearly sunrise, time to stumble to his cold, lonely bed yet again. He stood, wobbling more than a little, set the empty glass on the table, and staggered to his bed. Flopping down, he realized that he still held the letter.

Tossing it into the air, he slurred, " _Incendio!"_ and watched while it burst into glorious flames. And as the ashes drifted to the floor, Severus Snape passed out on his bed just as the sun was rising.


	5. Chapter 5

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 5**

 **June 30, 1996 Sunrise**

"I don't care what Severus did! I don't care what Severus said! I don't care how strong a pain potion he gave you!" Poppy Pomfrey exploded, her face as red as the flower for which she was named. "Since when is Severus a Healer? Dobby!" she yelled. "Dobby, hold his arm still!"

"Poppy," Albus Dumbledore moaned, "just leave it be. I'm an old man; I've made a bit of a mistake, and now I'm going to pay for it." He heaved a sigh and tried to pull his blighted hand away.

Poppy was having none of it. "Leave it be?" she screeched, jerking his right hand back across the desk. "The Lion of Gryffindor, the High and Mighty Albus Dumbledore, conqueror of Gellert Grindelwald is just going to sit back and do nothing?"

"No, sir, Headmaster, sir," Dobby said softly. "Professor Dumblydore must let Madam Pomfrey help." The little elf held fast to the old man's arm and looked at the Matron, determination in his eyes. "Madam Pomfrey tell Dobby what she need."

Poppy scrutinized Dumbledore's hand, casting spell after spell at it to no avail. "I need a healer," she muttered. "Albus," she said softly, seriously, "we need to get you to St. Mungo's. You need an expert at curse damage."

"I'm not leaving the school."

Poppy released his hand and stood up placing her hands on her hips. "Fine," she declared. "We'll just see what Minerva has to say about this."

Shock and something akin to fear cross his countenance. "Now, Poppy, you leave Min out of this." She turned her back on the old man. "Dobby, please go get Professor McGonagall." Quick as a blink the tiny elf was gone.

"Dobby!" he yelled out. "Dobby, I forbid you to disturb Professor McGonagall!"

The little elf reappeared briefly, a sad frown on his face. "Dobby very sorry, Headmaster Dumblydore, but Dobby is free elf. Dobby not follow orders."

Dumbledore's face went red. "Now see here, Dobby," the old man was arguing. "There's no need to involve Min-"

He broke off as noticed McGonagall standing in his doorway like a tartan clad version of the war goddess whose name she bore. "What is going on here?" Minerva demanded as she tied the belt of her dressing gown.

"-erva," he continued blithely, "how kind of you to come, but as you can see, all is well. There's nothing amiss, just a small case of misunderstanding with Dobby here."

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," McGonagall declared, "you're a poor liar with me." As she marched across the room, she couldn't help but see his hand. "Och, Albus, what in the name of Merlin have you done?"

He cleared his throat. "As you can see, I've run into a bit of a problem," he held out his blasted hand, "and -"

Poppy took the opportunity to speak up. "A bit of a problem," she hooted. "He's gone and done something stupid, and I'm afraid it doesn't look good at all."

"Have you called Severus? The boy is good at -"

"He's already been and gone. Severus did all he could," Poppy told her, "and Dobby and I've tried everything short of removing his hand."

"St. Mungo's then?"

"The stubborn old thing won't go!"

"Excuse me," Dumbledore stood up and complained, "but I'm right here, and I-" Minerva turned a withering glare on him, and he sat back down. "I'll not lose my wand hand," he muttered rebelliously, "and that's what they'll want to do."

"All right, Albus," Poppy said with a weary sigh, "I know you don't, but if it's a choice between your hand and your life -"

"There'll be no choice," McGonagall stated flatly. "Albus," she said gently, "Albus, look at me. We'll compromise, all right? What if we get a healer to come here? One whom we know to be loyal to the Order?"

"I'll not have St. Mungos involved," he answered with a grunt.

Minerva frowned, pulling her lips in. "All right, as you please this time, Albus. We'll hold off for a bit. Severus and Poppy can continue treating the curse for another month-"

"We can wait until the end of the school year," he interjected. "I've plans."

She frowned. "Six months," was her counter offer.

He frowned back at her, but he gave in. "All right, Min," he said with a deep sigh. His words were slightly slurred; he was definitely feeling the effects of the healing potion.

"Unless," she added, holding up a finger, "it appears to be getting worse." He sputtered in anger, but she ignored him. "If it does, I'm personally body-binding you and hauling you to St. Mungos for help."

"Missy Min?" An older house elf, her gray eyes filled with worry, appeared suddenly at her side.

McGonagall held up a hand forestalling the little elf, her bottle green eyes never leaving Dumbledore's blue ones until he nodded grudgingly. His eyelids slowly flickered, once, twice, then the pain medication had taken effect, and he slid into a deep slumber.

"What is it, Sosty?" she asked, giving her full attention to her personal house elf.

"Professor Burbage looking for Headmaster," Sosty answered. "She say someone needing a sack. Sosty tell her many sacks in kitchen, but she only get more upset."

Minerva turned to Poppy. "Charity?" she asked. "Isn't she supposed to be in London all week at some concert?"

"Dobby, I want you to put the Headmaster to bed. Stay with him. Alert me when he awakens or if his condition worsens." Having completed her instruction to the elf, Poppy turned around. "No, it was another one of those sporting event. You know how she is always going on and on and on about some Muggle game or other."

"Sosty, please bring us some breakfast, and have Charity come to the Headmaster's office," McGonagall replied. She sighed and swept her wand over herself, changing her gown into a pale blue skirt and floral top. Her dressing gown became a dark blue robe. "Yes, you're right," she replied. "I remember now. It was Severus who was attending a concert."

Poppy, having freshened up her own appearance and dressed in proper robes, had just picked up the tea pot when Charity Burbage came barreling into the office. "Tea, Charity?" she asked with a sniff, "or do you still drink that coffee sludge?"

"No time for it!" she yelled as she stormed across the room, waving an odd device in the air. It looked like a giant square cricket, its antenna whipping wildly as she shook her fist. "Minerva, where's Dumbledore?"

"The Headmaster is currently indisposed," McGonagall replied smoothly. "I'm in charge for the moment. Do sit down and have some tea and stop waving that insect at me."

"Minerva," Charity responded loudly, "I have just received a call from Hermione Granger's parents." She slammed the black, brick-like object on the desk. "They said a Hogwarts house elf came to see them late last night and -"

"I didn't know Miss Granger's parents were on the floo network," Poppy declared. She pushed a cup of tea towards Charity.

"They're not!" shouted Charity. "They called me on my mobile."

"Mo-bull?" Poppy asked, a line of confusion appearing between her eyes. "That sounds utterly ridiculous! What in Merlin's name is that? Another silly Muggle game?" She added sugar and milk to her own cup.

"For the love of -" Burbage shrieked, her face red with anger. "That isn't important, Poppy! If you'll just shut it, I'll -"

McGonagall set her empty cup down with a clink. "There's no need for hostility, Charity," she said primly. "Sit down, drink some tea, dear, and explain yourself."

Charity Burbage huffed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes and dropped into the chair. "Fine," she said sourly. "I'm sitting." She plopped down into a chair, picked up the tea cup, and drained it. "I drank the tea." She banged the cup back onto its saucer. "Now, will you listen? Early this morning right in the middle of a pre-game celebration and by Muggle means, which I don't have time to explain-" She shot a glare of irritation at Poppy. "-the Grangers contacted me. Yesterday afternoon Hermione left with a young man to go to the big concert in Hyde Park. She didn't come home."

Minerva frowned. "I'll admit that it is certainly unlike Miss Granger to stay out all night and worry her parents," she admitted, "but she's sixteen going on seventeen."

"An age where such things are known to happen," Poppy finished the thought. "She'll come home."

"Normally, I would tend to agree with you, Poppy," Charity snapped, "but the young man was found unconscious. They've called in the Muggle authorities."

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall pulled her wand out. "How awful!" she gasped. "I'll send word to Kingsley Shacklebolt," she declared.

"No," Charity replied firmly, "not yet, anyway." She pushed Minerva's wand down. "The Grangers told me that a Hogwarts house elf named Weena popped in to see them. This Weena told them that Hermione was safe and sound here at Hogwarts."

Poppy snorted. "So why are you screaming around here with your knickers all in twist? If the girl is here and safe, then what's the problem?"

Charity glared at the Matron. "Because," she responded, her voice seething with fury, "Weena then told the Grangers that their daughter was drunk as a lord and having sex with Severus Snape!"

"She didn't!" Poppy gasped.

"She did!" Charity cried. "The elf further declared that Miss Granger would be home in the morning, so there was no need for them to be worried!"

Minerva's face grew ashen. Then slowly, as the full implications of what she'd heard sank into her brain, the blood began to return. Her normal complexion grew pink, then rosy, red, magenta, until it finally settled into the color of a fine Scottish thistle bloom. "Are you saying," she asked with deliberate slowness, "that Severus and Miss Granger are - are -" She stuttered, unable to complete the thought aloud.

"Now, hold on a minute," Poppy argued. "That can't be right! Severus would never!" She rounded the desk and heatedly confronted Charity. "We don't even know if Hogwarts has an elf named Weena! I've certainly never heard of her! And for you to come-"

"Weena new to Hogwarts, come yesterday," Sosty spoke up. There was suspicion in her voice and gray eyes. "Weena say she belong to Master of Potions."

Bracing her hands on Albus' desk, Minerva rose, her spine ramrod straight and her shoulders braced. Iron faced and steely eyed, she marched briskly across the room ready for battle. With her wand at the ready and the tails of her robes streaming behind her, Minerva McGonagall jogged all the way down to the dungeon rooms of Severus Snape. The closer she got to her destination, the faster she moved and the angrier she became. Poppy and Charity found themselves running to keep up with her.

"Now, Minerva," Poppy shouted. She had hiked up her skirt and was running in order to keep up with the friend's longer legs. "There has to be a reasonable explanation! Severus would never -" She halted to rest, bent double with one hand bracing herself against the wall and the other holding the stitch in her side. "You can't just go crashing in like a juggernaut!" she shouted at her colleagues. "Damn Gryffindors!" she muttered as she heaved herself up and trotted away after them.

His wards, impenetrable or so he had thought, were easily opened. It only took a simple swish and flick of the Deputy Headmistress' wand. McGonagall cautiously opened the door to the Potions Master's quarters. "Severus!" she called out with concern.

"Minerva!" Charity hissed at her side. "Couldn't you have at least knocked? He isn't going to be happy at all about this!" Paying her co-worker no attention, Minerva plowed through the sitting room intent on the bedchamber.

"Poppy, you've got to help! Stop her! Do something!" Burbage begged. She grabbed the other woman by the arm. "Severus is a Death Eater! He's going to kill Minerva! And then us!"

Jerking her arm lose, Poppy graced her colleague with a hateful look. "You started this, Charity Burbage!" she hissed back. "And I'll be holding you personally responsible for whatever happens here." She stepped into Snape's quarters gingerly. "Severus?" she called out. "Severus, are you here?" Then she lowered her voice. "And for your information, Minerva McGonagall can take on three Death Eaters all while drinking her afternoon tea and never spill a drop!"

"Poppy!" Charity whispered in shock, pointing towards a kneeling McGonagall who was holding a bloody, sequined scrap of material. "Minerva? What, what's that?" she stuttered.

Snapping up into a fighting stance, Minerva, wand held aggressively in her right hand, shook the bloody clothing at the two witches behind her. "A piece of woman's clothing," she snarled. "Covered in blood."


	6. Chapter 6

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 6**

 **June 30, 1996**

As if the bloody garment triggered some berserker trait from her Scottish ancestry, the Head of Gryffindor lost all sense of reason. She blasted open the bedroom door, rocking it off the hinges. Dust, small stones, and splinters of wood exploded! When the smoke cleared, Minerva McGonagall stood with her wand aloft like an avenging archangel. "Severus Snape!" she cried. Her brogue was thick enough to bludgeon the ear. "Where are ye?"

Severus Snape awoke to a thundering boom, the wailing of a banshee, and the throbbing of his head. His lightning-fast reflexes were dulled by both a crippling hangover and the sheets entangling his bare legs. He was reaching for his wand, usually kept under his pillow, when he heard the blood-curdling cry of " _Expeliarmus_!"

He bolted upright, his body on automatic, his arms scrambling for the sheet to cover himself. "Shite!" he exclaimed. "Minerva, what the bloody hell are you doing? Return my wand at once, you Scottish harridan!"

"Where's the girl?" she demanded. Her voice was brittle and unrelenting.

"Oh, my head," a smallish, pain-filled voice groaned. A slim arm emerged from the far side of the bed, followed by a rat's nest of brown hair. Hermione's bloated face emerged from under a blanket. "Where? Where am I?" she wondered aloud. Then as realization set in, so did her panic. "Professor Snape? Oh, no! No, no, no!" She screamed and began to hyperventilate. "This can't be happening. This isn't happening!"

"What the fuck!" Snape yelled. He leapt from the bed as if scalded, barely managing to retain enough to the sheet for modesty's sake.

"Oh, Severus," Poppy wailed. "Tell me you didn't!" She rushed to the girl's side, and wrapped her in the remaining bedcovers. "Hermione, child, it's all right now. Do you remember what happened?"

"Sweet Merlin!" Charity yelled.

Minerva's eyes were red enough to rival the Dark Lord's. "I dinna know whither ta kill ye meself or ta let Albus do it," she growled, her voice full of fire and brimstone.

"Surely you don't think that, that, that -," he stuttered, his face pale with hurt and shock.

"Explain!" McGonagall ordered, her voice was icy. She threw the bloody item at Snape.

The sight of Granger's stained clothing stunned him. His exploding head made thinking nearly impossible. "I saved the stupid girl's life at the concert yesterday," he blurted out, "and got a bloodied and broken nose for my trouble."

"Then why," McGonagall demanded, "is tha bairn neked and in your bed?"

"I don't bloody well know!" he shouted back in bewilderment. "Minerva, you can't think that -" He paused as his thought process finally began to work again, and his temper began to rise. "Weena!" he roared. "Where the hell is that be-damned elf? Weena!"

Pop! The small elf, her happy little smile immediately sliding off her face, appeared on the foot of the bed. "Yes, sir, Potions Master, Master, sir," she gulped. She grabbed the tips of both ears and pulled them down on either side of her frightened face. "Weena do wrong? Weena only follow orders."

"Why is that girl in my bed?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing. Snape jerked the little elf up and shook her until her ears were flapping like a flag in a high wind. "What orders? What did you do? Explain! Now!"

"Master say take care of girl," the terrified elf whined. "Weena do for Master of Potions what Weena always do for Master Malfoy," she whimpered piteously.

Minerva lowered her wand slightly. "Master Malfoy?" she asked, her brogue retreating with her anger. "Severus, what are you doing with a Malfoy house elf?"

He let go of the elf and faced his accuser. "Since Lucius has been sentenced to Azkaban, Narcissa thought it best to clean out his London flat. She _gifted_ me with that thing." He pointed to the cringing elf. "Weena served Lucius Malfoy in his London flat. No doubt she was only doing what she'd been trained to do. Apparently when Lucius told his wife there were things at the flat that 'should not concern a lady,' he didn't mean items of dark magic."

"Yes," Minerva agreed with a moue of distaste, "that I can understand, but it still doesn't explain how and why we've found you and the girl in a compromising position." She sniffed.

"Weena know," the elf volunteered. "Weena follow orders to take care of girl. First, remove clothes. Second, put in bed. Third, set out hangover potion," she said, counting off the chores as she held up her fingers. "Fourth, let girl's family know."

"You told my parents I was sleeping with Professor Snape?" Hermione screeched. "No, no, no, no! I can't go home and face them!"

"It's all right, dear," Poppy tried to comfort the girl. "There has just been a huge misunderstanding," Poppy cooed. "I knew there had to be an explanation! Severus would never -"

"I most certainly would not!" he exploded. "How dare the three of you come screeching down here like the three Stygian Witches! All of you, blind as to the truth, yet absolutely certain of my guilt!" A heavy line of red was creeping up his body, and his pale chest was heaving with self-righteous anger.

Minerva lowered her wand and put it away. "Severus, I am sorry," she said formally. "I was most assuredly in the wrong, and I owe you an apology. Your wand."

He snatched it from her, ignoring her apology. "As if I would, under any circumstances, besmirch my honor," he muttered to himself.

"You can't totally blame, Minerva," Charity spoke up. "I mean, we get word from Granger's parents that you and the girl are shagging like bunnies, and, well, there she is."

"And, Severus," Poppy added gently, "we did find her clothes covered in blood."

"Weena always served Master Malfoy well," the elf protested. "Weena do wrong?"

"You did everything wrong, you stupid creature!" Snape blurted out. "Except the hangover potion. That was the only thing you did correctly." He grabbed the potion and downed it. "Oh, stop that caterwauling, girl," he yelled across the bed," and drink the damned hangover potion!" He picked up her scandalous outfit and tossed it to Poppy.

Poppy raised an eloquent eyebrow at the costume. "Severus," Poppy spoke up, a giggle threatening, "we still need a full account of this comedy of errors." He only glared at her. "The girl's parents will demand an explanation."

"Fine," he spat. "As I said, at the concert, I found a highly intoxicated girl who was being forced against her will into a car, and like a fool, I intervened. I had no idea it was Miss Granger." He heaved a sigh, slowly forcing himself to calm down. "To make a long story short, I returned to Hogwarts with the intentions of having Poppy examine the girl, who had obviously been drugged, and to have one of the female staff members escort her home. However, upon arrival, I received an emergency summons from the Headmaster, so I instructed this idiot elf to take care of the girl."

"And Weena do," the elf chimed in. "Weena take care of girl like Master Malfoy instruct."

"Yes, you did, indeed," Snape drawled sarcastically, "and we'll be discussing that later. But first there are some things I need to discuss in private with the Headmaster and his Deputy." He paused, gathering the sheet and the remains of his dignity around him. "If you will excuse me, I will shower and dress before meeting you later in the Headmaster's office. As you found your way in, I'm sure you can see yourselves out." He pivoted on the balls of his bare feet, stormed into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him.

"Again, Severus," Minerva called out to the closed door, "I am so, so sorry about this." She jerked her head at the door and motioned for the three other witches in the room to leave with her. "Charity, would you please take Weena to the Granger's home for a personal explanation? Assure them that she will be home soon."

"Of course, Minerva," she said meekly. "I am so sorry about all this." She touched the older witch's elbow. "I think, though, I'd better go polyjuiced as Hermione. May I have a sample of your hair?" she turned to asked the girl.

Poppy snorted. "So, now Charity Burbage actually starts using her brain," she snipped.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Why can't I go home now?"

"When you didn't come home and your date was found passed out at the concert, Muggle authorities were called in," Charity explained, "and they won't close the case until they are assured that you are safe."

"I guess Will drank too much," she said. "I'll admit I drank a bit myself, but I still don't understand why I can't go home now."

"Look at yourself, girl," Poppy said incredulously. "You're covered in tears, snot, and blood. Your make-up is smeared, and your hair is a rat's nest! Do you really want your parents to see you like this? And as for these ridiculous clothes -" She shook the top.

Hermione choked out a single laugh. "All right, Madam Pomfrey, I get the point, and I've already had the lecture on clothing at home before I left."

"Here," Poppy said, handing Hermione's top to Charity. "I'm sure you'll find a hair or two on this. Once the authorities are satisfied and leave, you can allow the potion to wear off and explain things properly before you jet off to watch Muggle games."

Minerva nodded. "Thank you. Poppy," she added, "would you please examine Miss Granger to make sure there are no lingering effects from her ordeal? Give her some breakfast."

Minerva shut and re-warded Severus' door, and then she took Charity by the arm. "Charity, please let me know when you've finished explaining to the Grangers. I'd like to get the girl home as soon as possible," Minerva told her. She eyed Hermione critically, then waved her wand, transfiguring Severus' comforter into a proper lady's business suit.

"Much better," Charity said. "Hermione, I'll tell the authorities that your date -"

"Will," she supplied the name, "William Bankston."

"Had too much to drink and got into a fight, which he lost, so you caught a ride with a friend," Charity said. "After the authorities are satisfied and leave, I'll explain the whole truth to your parents. Then I'm heading straight back to the pub for game time!"


	7. Chapter 7

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 7**

 **June 30 9:30AM**

Headmaster Dumbledore's face was gray with pain, but he was dressed and eating breakfast while he worked at his desk. The smile that lit up his face when Minerva entered the room vanished when he took note of the anguished look in her eyes. "What's happened?" he asked gruffly, pushing aside his plate.

Minerva immediately flopped into one of the comfortable arm chairs and sighed. "A terrible mistake, Albus," Minerva said as she rubbed her temples, "one that I'm sure isn't over. Go on, finish eating."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, then grunted and pulled his plate back. "Would you take something? Tea? Toast? I do hate to eat in front of others, or to take bad news on an empty stomach. Dobby," he called behind him, "please bring Professor McGonagall some tea."

Together sat in companionable silence while he ate. When he was finished, the gray had eased from Dumbledore's complexion. "All right then," he said, "Minerva, what happened?"

"The short of it is this: someone, posing as her young man, drugged Hermione Granger in an attempt to abduct her last night. Severus, who happened to be present, rescued the girl, receiving another broken nose in the process," Minerva explained. She paused to sip her tea. "When the girl did not return home and the real young man was found unconscious in the shrubbery at Hyde Park, the Muggle authorities became involved."

"I'll send a patronus to Kingsley," Dumbledore began. "If there was an attempted kidnapping of an Order member, he should be informed."

"A good idea," Minerva said with a sigh. "In all the commotion, I'd forgotten. Where was I? Oh, yes, Severus returned here with the girl, intending to have Poppy take care of her; however, because you had just summoned him, no doubt about your hand, he gave her over into the care of his new house elf, Weena."

Dumbledore grunted again. "Go on."

She took another long sip of her tea. "This elf, a gift from Narcissa Malfoy, had been working for Lucius Malfoy in his flat in London, and when Severus told her to 'take care of the girl,' Weena followed the instructions instilled in her by Lucius."

"I'm beginning not to like your story, Minerva," he commented.

"You'd be wise not to," she retorted. "After following what she perceived to be Severus' orders, Weena visited the Grangers, telling them that their daughter and her professor are shagging like two pygmy puffs and that the girl would be home when he was done with her."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up like a rocket. "Sweet Circe, Minerva! Tell me you're joking."

She only glared at him. "It gets worse. The Grangers, naturally horrified as any good parents would be, contacted the school through Charity Burbage. So Charity came rolling into the office like a Matilda bent on a killing mission. She, Poppy, and I went in search of Severus to see what was going on." She sighed. "That's when we found him and the girl naked and sound asleep in his bed."

"You what?" he thundered. He slammed his blackened fist on the desk, upsetting the teapot.

Minerva lazily waved her wand cleaning up the mess. "Sit down, Albus," she said mildly. "It's not at all what you're thinking."

"Just as it wasn't at all what you were thinking either," Snape drawled derisively from the doorway, "but it didn't stop you from thinking the worst of me and holding me naked at wand point." He marched decisively across the Headmaster's office, helped himself to tea and toast, and settled into a chair next to Minerva.

"In my defense," Minerva responded, "we found Miss Granger's blood-drenched clothing lying on your floor -"

"From my broken nose," he retorted. "As to the girl being unclothed and in my bed, I swear I had absolutely no knowledge that. It was entirely the fault of that idiot elf."

"I believe you, Severus," Minerva told him earnestly. "I ought never to have doubted you, and I'm sorry. I hope you'll forgive me."

Nodding, Snape set down his mug. "I'm sure I will, Minerva. Eventually."

"What of Miss Granger and her parents?" Dumbledore asked. "Has anyone set their minds at ease?"

"I asked Poppy to examine her and give her breakfast," she replied. "I also saw to it that she had some more suitable clothing -"

"Thank Merlin," Severus muttered into his tea.

"-and Charity, polyjuiced to look like Miss Granger, has taken Weena to see the Grangers and straighten out the whole situation."

Dumbledore frowned. "Why in the world would Charity do that? Polyjuice herself to look like the girl, I mean?"

"Because the Muggle authorities are involved," Minerva explained. "If it appeared that the girl had returned home of her own accord and unharmed, the authorities would be inclined to let things go."

Snape frowned and set his teacup down. "I believe that the girl's would-be abductor was working on the Dark Lord's orders." He looked slowly back and forth between the two. "And I fear that the culprit may have been Draco Malfoy."

"Draco? Severus, how can you be sure of that?" Dumbledore demanded.

"According to Mrs. Malfoy, the Dark Lord has commanded Draco to kill Potter's girlfriend. If he completed the task, his father's failure at the Ministry would be forgiven. Failure, however, would result in his mother's death," he answered. "Besides he drove away in a green, vintage Triumph Spitfire that, unless I am badly mistaken, belongs to Narcissa Malfoy."

"Do you think she's involved as well?" Minerva asked with alarm.

"No." He shook his head. "Cissy cares nothing for political machinations. Like your protective feelings for your favorite student, her only concern is for her child."

Minerva nodded, knowing that if Severus wasn't ready yet to forgive her, he at least understood. "Thank you," she told him sincerely, and he nodded.

Dumbledore frowned. "I wonder why the boy didn't just fulfill his order and kill the girl," he said. "I mean, that is what Tom ordered him to do."

Snape shook his head. "Draco," he explained, "is a bully, but, for all his high talk, he's no killer. And, he's in way over his head."

"Missy Min," her elf Sosty spoke softly, "you has another problem." She had appeared suddenly holding Weena by the arm. Her gray eyes were hard, and the younger elf was covered in blood and shivering from shock.

In one fluid movement, Severus knelt down beside little Weena. He grabbed her by both arms, heedless of the blood, and shook her gently. "Weena!" he called her. "Weena, what's happened?"

The little elf blinked until her green eyes slowly refocused on her new owner. "Oh, Potions Master, Master, sir," she whispered. "Awfulness it was. Poor Muggles!"

Suddenly, Dumbledore, bending at the waist, was there. Gently but demandingly, he asked her, "Weena, what happened? What was awful?"

The little elf began to cry, and Sosty stepped forward, pulling Weena from Severus' grasp. She draped a tea towel over the younger elf's shoulders. "Weena must tell," the older elf implored.

Weena looked into the deep gray eyes of the other elf and began to weep. "Missy Charity fooled Muggle aurors. They leave. Missy Charity tell Missy 'Mione's parents truth. Then _they_ arrive." The little elf paused, nearly at her breaking point.

"Weena not stop," Sosty urged her. "Weena tell all. Weena be brave."

The terrified little elf nodded and swallowed. "Wearing black," she said, " _they_ kill all. Father Granger, Mother Granger, Missy Charity still looking like Missy Hermione. All dead. Blood, blood everywhere. Weena so scared. Weena come back alone!"

Severus stood, grim faced and silent. He looked his colleagues steadily in the eyes.

"Thank you, Weena," Minerva said abruptly. "Sosty, please take care of Weena."

The older elf nodded, anger and worry on her wrinkled face. "Sosty take Weena."

As the two elves vanished from sight, Dumbledore scrubbed his blackened hand across his face. "I'll contact Kingsley," he said.

"And I'll go tell the girl," Minerva stated with a sigh. "I'll vouch as guardian for her, Albus, and get my brother Robbie to draw up the legal papers. She comes of age in September, so that -"

"No," Severus said quickly, "the Dark Lord believes the girl is dead. Let's not enlighten him. Perhaps we can turn this to our advantage."

"Agreed," Dumbledore stated firmly. "Only the three of us, Poppy, and Kingsley need know the truth. Miss Granger can work on her studies while staying hidden, and perhaps we can put her brilliant mind to work for the Order as well." He glanced back and forth at them. "I find myself in need of a research assistant."

"We'll leave you then," Severus said softly as he headed for the door. "I'll go with you to speak to the girl," he told Minerva. "She may remember something of importance." He held the door open for her.

"Thank you, Severus," Minerva replied. "Oh, hello, Kingsley."

"Good morning, Professor," the tall dark man replied.

"I wish it were," she said. "I wish it were."


	8. Chapter 8

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 8**

 **June 30 10:30AM**

Hermione had just finished breakfast when Professors McGonagall and Snape walked into the infirmary. She quickly stood. "I want to thank you both for all you've done," she spoke quietly but insistently. "Especially you, Professor Snape, for saving me."

"What do you remember about last night?" he asked. "Please tell us everything. Any little detail might be important."

Biting her lip in concentration, Hermione frowned. "Will - I met him at my parents office, he and his parents have been patients of theirs for a long time. Last week we went to a car show. He really likes classic cars."

"Miss Granger," Snape growled, "you're babbling"

Hermione blushed and muttered, "Sorry." She glanced at McGonagall for encouragement, and when the older witch nodded, she continued. "So, Will picked me up to go to the concert in a new car, well, an old one really. It was a classic Triumph Spitfire with creamy white leather interior."

Snape rolled his eyes.

She hurried on. "Anyway, we went to the Prince's Trust concert in Hyde Park. We were having a really great time, and we drank more than we should." She blushed at the admission. "I remember wanting to stay longer, but he got angry and insisted that we leave before the concert ended. He said he wanted to beat the crowd out, and he became really angry when we stayed until The Who finished."

"Who finished?" Poppy asked.

Hermione looked at Poppy strangely. "Yes," she said.

"Really, Miss Granger," Poppy huffed, "I don't think this is something to be joking about."

Snape snorted with humor. "The Who is the name of a musical group, Poppy," he told the older witch. "Madam Pomfrey is from a pure-blood family," he explained to the girl, "she is unfamiliar with Muggle culture."

Poppy frowned. "Did you know about the who too?" she asked McGonagall.

McGonagall winked at Severus. "Of course, Poppy," she replied, "I believe they're from the Great Lakes Region of Africa." Hermione laughed. Suddenly turning serious, McGonagall added, "Miss Granger, please sit down."

"What is it, Professor?"

"I'm afraid I have some rather bad news," she told the girl. She locked eyes with Poppy Pomfrey and nodded. The medi-witch muttered profanity under her breath and headed towards her office. "Hermione, dear," she continued, "there was a Death Eater attack this morning."

Hermione paled and fisted her hands in her robe. "My parents, are they okay?"

Minerva held the young girl's gaze evenly. "No, dear," she said gently, "I am so sorry."

The girl inhaled, holding her breath for so long they feared she would pass out. Suddenly releasing it, she shuddered. "How?" she squeaked. The tears fell fast now. "How did they die?" She choked on the word. "What happened? You have to tell me everything!"

Because McGonagall, swallowing hard, was unable to form the words, Snape spoke up. "Miss Granger," he said carefully, "have you ever witnessed an avada kedavra?"

"Y-yes," she stammered tearfully.

"Then you know it is quick and painless," he said.

"I have to go," she said through her sobs. "I have to go see them." She stood up, but McGonagall pulled her back down.

"No, child," she said, "that's not possible." The girl's hurt and confused expression cut her to the quick. "I'm sorry."

Madam Pomfrey handed the younger witch a vial. "Here, child," she said, "this is a calming potion."

Minerva waited until Hermione had finished drinking. "As you know, in order to satisfy the Muggle authorities and reassure your parents, Professor Burbage polyjuiced herself to look like you. She was killed too, and -"

Again, Snape spoke up. "The Dark Lord ordered your death," he told her bluntly. "Now he believes he has achieved that goal. We want to keep -"

" - him from knowing the truth," Hermione finished the sentence. She was growing calmer if sluggish now. "I see," she said with a yawn. "If he thinks I'm dead, I can -" She was asleep before she finished her thought.

Poppy efficiently settled the girl in a bed. "I added a touch of dreamless sleep to it," she stated. "When she wakes, I'll keep her busy helping inventory supplies for the hospital wing or brewing potions."

Snape nodded. "I'll go by her home and gather some of her clothing and things," he offered. "I'll also be visiting young Mr. Malfoy."

Poppy asked, "Minerva, can you find out about the arrangements? It will be expected that the school send a delegation to the funeral of a student. Perhaps we can find a way for Miss Granger to attend in disguise."

Minerva nodded. "I'll have my brother, Robbie, check on it immediately. The girl will have a room in my quarters. She'll be well-hidden and protected there."

"That was well done of you, Severus," Poppy told him, "easing the truth for the girl."

"Yes, but you shouldn't have lied, Severus," Minerva admonished him lightly. "Telling her girl her parents died a painless death."

He angled an eyebrow at her. "I told no lie, Minerva," he retorted smartly. "I never said they died by _avada kedrava_. I asked her had she ever witnessed one."

"I suppose you are responsible for this?" Snape drawled unpleasantly. He'd arranged to meet Draco at the office of Malfoy Enterprises.

Draco was enjoying sitting behind his father's desk, which was cluttered with paperwork. There was also a tumbler of firewhiskey and the remains of a half-smoked Cuban cigar. He'd offered both to his godfather, but Snape was in no mood for pleasantries.

Now, the boy was struggling under the weight of Snape's stare. He spread out his arms, hoping to bluff his way out. "Father made plans in case he was forced to 'retire' early. He set everything up in some trust fund for mother and me, so that no one can touch the money," he said airily. "I don't begin to understand it, which is why I'll be continuing my post-Hogwarts education in finance." He folded his hands on the desk. "Very clever, my father, to keep it safe like that. Now, no one can touch any of the Malfoy money."

"Not even the Dark Lord, I suppose," Snape replied casually. His comment hit the mark, and when the boy paled, he added, "But Malfoy Enterprises is not what I meant." He removed his wand, tapping it against his thigh. "I meant the business with the Granger family."

Draco swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I, I," he stuttered, "I'm not sure what you mean." His eyes were trained on Snape's wand. Tap, tap, tap went the wand. "You must mean -" His eyes flickered up to meet Snape's deadly black orbs. Tap, tap tap. He licked his lips. "Yes, I was there, Uncle Severus," he blurted out. "I was there, but I didn't kill her or her parents. That was Aunt Bellatrix and Pettigrew." He began to panic and jumped to his feet. "Did he send you here to kill me for failing? Did he?"

"I'm not here to kill you," Snape reassured him. "In fact, I had no idea you were given the _honor_ of killing Granger until your mother told me."

The young man sat back down. He nodded, reached blindly for the glass, and sipped the firewhiskey. He paused for a moment and then drained the glass before setting it back down. "I, I couldn't do it," he muttered, almost rebelliously. Looking up at his godfather, his stormy gray eyes tearful, he said softly, "I was given no choice. The Dark Lord wanted Potter's mudblo-" He stopped and made a conscious decision. Straightening his back, he continued, "- Muggle-born friend dead. He hoped it would frighten Potter into giving up."

"I know you're no killer, Draco," Snape said gently.

The way Snape said it, without contempt, made Draco wonder. "You say that," he spoke slowly, carefully, "like it's not a bad thing." When the older man did not respond, Draco continued. "I tried to explain that Granger -" He winced as he said the word, and he stopped that line of thought. "Anyway, it didn't matter to Aunt Bella."

"If you knew you couldn't kill her, what did you plan to do? Don't try that innocent look with me, Draco. I know you polyjuiced yourself as her date and took her to the concert in the park. You thought I didn't recognize you?"

Draco opened his mouth and closed it several times like a fish. "I, I," he stuttered, and then stood up. "I was going to drug her and keep her at father's London flat until the war was over. I know," he rattled on, "I know it's was stupid idea, but do you want to know what is even stupider? I was having a good time with her! The Muggle concert was great, and Granger, well, she isn't so bad." He raked his hand through his hair several times as a frown covered his face, forcing premature worry lines around his eyes. "You won't tell mother, will you?"

Severus stood facing the younger wizard. "No, Draco, I won't tell your mother, and I won't tell anyone about your failed attempt at kidnapping. However -" He paused turning the boy's relief into fear. "- I will insist on several favors from you in the future. For my silence. And for the broken nose you gave me."

 **July 2 10:30AM**

"What now, Uncle Severus?" Draco asked timidly. "Aunt Bella is on her way."

"We wait," he answered quickly.

"So, this is Granger's bedroom?" Draco asked as he wandered around, examining items randomly. He pulled out a few dresser drawers, leaving them open, and then reached for the closet door.

"Stop plundering through the girl's things!" Snape barked. He stepped in front of the closet. "It makes you look like a pervert of some kind." Surreptitiously, he began slipping items of clothing into a bag he carried.

Draco blushed and turned away. "I've never been in the Muggle world before," the boy remarked. "It's not at all what I expected? I was sure it would be a hovel of some sort with anti-magic propaganda everywhere." He laughed softly. "Most of all I think I like this fizzy coh-lah drink."

"Coca-Cola," Snape told him. "It's an American drink."

Draco finished the drink and set the can atop the dresser. "It's no use," he cried. He flopped down on the bed, snatched up a stuffed bear, and held it to his chest. "Uncle Severus, I know I owe you this favor, but helping to betray -"

Severus' long strides had him at the boy's side in two steps. He grabbed Draco by the shirt collar. "Listen to me!" he insisted. "You are not betraying anyone! Bella is insane; she needs help. I've made arrangements to see that she is sent to a special place for the criminally insane!"

"I know," Draco hissed back, "but it seems wrong!"

"Wrong? To stop an insane murderess?" Snape returned vehemently. He stared intensely at the boy.

Draco swallowed. "No," he whispered, unable to stop himself from speaking. Then he took a deep breath and dropped his voice even lower. "Then what about _him_? Shouldn't we try to stop _him_?"

Snape released Draco and eyed him steadily. _That's right, Draco,_ he urged the boy. _Let the Veritiserum in the Coca-Cola work!_ "You would betray the Dark Lord?" Severus asked simply.

"I, I," the boy stuttered. "I don't - I -" Blood rose, like red courage, into the boy's face, and he sprang up from the bed, shoving Severus away. "Yes, damn it!" he hissed angrily. "He's insane! You've seen it, too; I know you have! Look what he's done to my family! My father is in Azkaban! My mother is under a death -" His chest heaved with righteousness, and his eyes traveled up and down the length of his godfather in disgust. "All of us, even you, grovel like slaves before him, terrified of what he might do if we so much as disagree with him!"

 _Careful now! The boy's declared his feelings but not his intentions._ Severus stood stock still, unwilling to frighten his godson. "And what of our cause?" he responded slowly. "Are you willing to see your father's pure-blood dreams for the supremacy of our kind just fade away?"

Draco laughed loudly, but the laugh was tinged with hysteria. "Do you want to know something, Uncle Severus? I've never really thought about it until recently." He shook his head until the blonde locks were askew. "But it's ridiculous really if you honestly think about it. We are waging war on a people who can't really fight back. I'm no Gryffindor, but even to me that seems cowardly. And what about half-bloods? Does having a Muggle parent make one weaker or less than having two magical parents?"

Severus frowned. _I have to make this convincing. If Draco can stand up to me, then he's ready to follow Dumbledore._ He took a menacing step closer to his godson and snatched the bear from him. "Explain!" he growled, low and threateningly.

Draco laughed in Snape's face. "It's utter shite! Look at Granger! She's a Muggle-born. If that pure-blood crap were true, she wouldn't have been such a threat to our 'great cause' that he thought she had to be killed. And you -" He paused and swallowed hard. "You're a half-blood, but you're one of the most powerful wizards among us! Even the Dark Lord is a half-blood!"

 _Bravo, Draco!_ Snape backed away from the boy. "So," he asked slowly, "you do not believe in our cause at all?"

Draco replied with a rude noise. "I bloody well do not!" He stepped forward to clasp his godfather by arm. "What makes pure-bloods so special, so much better than everyone else, if we have to kill innocents to prove our point? If we are so powerful and so much better, then why can't we simply look down our aristocratic noses at the 'simple folk' and go about our way? What makes them such a threat that we have to destroy them?"

 _I must push the issue; I must be certain. Too many lives will depend on knowing._ "You realize, Draco, that you are committing treason against our Lord. Since you do not support our cause, what do you intend to do? Sit in neutrality on the side like your mother? Or do you intend to fight against us?" Snape slowly slid his wand free and held in loosely at the boy.

Draco, trembling in fear, turned to face his godfather and squared his shoulders. "Sitting in neutrality has done nothing for my mother but cause her heartache and misery," he said with a quaver in his voice. "So, I suppose I'll have to fight you, Uncle." He pulled his wand and held it out towards the older man.

Two loud popping noises startled the boy, and Snape reached out to snatch his wand away. "Draco, sweeting?" Bella's voice called out tenderly from the lawn below. Then her voice changed as she screeched, "Don't touch me, you vile rat!"

"Call to her, boy," another voice, a deeper voice said. "Tell her to come inside."

Draco whipped around in amazement as Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks stepped out of Granger's closet. The blood drained from Draco's face, and he backed up against the wall.

"Go on, cousin," Tonks told him gently. She stepped forward and touched his elbow. "Now that we know you're on our side, we can protect you. I've made arrangements. My mother will take you and Aunt Cissy to America. She'll stay with you there until the war is over." She waited until he nodded, then she followed Shacklebolt through the door.

Draco ground his back teeth, but he moved without hesitation to the open window. Leaning out, he yelled, "I'm up here. I've found some things we can use for our great cause." Pulling his head back in, he turned to face them. "Pettigrew is with her, and I can see the aurors hidden in the shrubbery. You set me up, didn't you, Uncle Severus?" He smiled and hugged the older man. "I'm glad you did," he whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 9**

 **July 3, 1996**

Two women walked down the long aisle of the local church to pay their respects to the middle-aged couple standing near the altar. Hermione Granger, polyjuiced to look like Sybil Trelawney, stood rigid beside Minerva McGonagall.

"I am Minerva McGonagall," the tallest woman said, reaching to shake hands with the couple. "I'm the Deputy Headmistress of Miss Granger's school. With me is Sybil Trelawney, our home economics teacher. We are all devastated by the news. Are you relatives?"

"No," the large woman replied, "as far as we know, the Grangers had no other relatives. I'm Patricia Weathersby, and this is my husband, Edward. We've lived next to the Grangers since they moved in, long before little Hermione came along."

"Why," Sybil-Hermione's voice cracked on the word, "why was there no funeral?"

Mrs. Weathersby lowered her voice. "The authorities deemed it best. It wasn't a pretty sight. I've had the most dreadful night mares." She wrapped her arms about her middle and shuddered.

McGonagall cast a quick glance at Hermione, noting that the girl's face paled. "I am very sorry to hear that," she said. "Have the authorities made any arrests?"

Mr. Weathersby reached out to shake Sybil-Hermione's hand. "Edward Weathersby," he quickly introduced himself and placed an arm along his wife's shoulder. "Thank you for coming. Yes, by George, the wife and I saw the whole thing! The authorities caught them both right out on the front lawn! An outlandish pair, they were! The woman was completely crackers, screeching about rats the whole time!"

"She'd returned to the scene of the crime just like the murderer in a cheap crime drama," Patricia added. "She looked like a female Jack the Ripper."

"Looked like some half-arsed vampire if you ask me," Edward muttered.

"Edward!" his wife gasped. "Watch your language! The other killer, the man, he was just as bad! Looked like he'd been on drugs for years."

"Probably cocaine," Edward added, "the way he kept twitching his nose and snuffling."

A tall gentleman in a frock coat walked over and extended a hand to McGonagall. "Did I detect," he said softly, "a bit of a highland brogue there?" His own accent left little doubt of his origins.

"Aye, I suppose you did at that," she replied briskly. "Minerva McGonagall," she answered his unspoken question, "Deputy Headmistress of Miss Granger's school."

The priest nodded. "A sweet lass, she was." He looked around as the crowd was thinning out. "There's been quite a turn out, you know. Nearly all of the Granger's patients have come by, and a good many of the staff from your school, too."

Minerva frowned slightly. "I don't -" she paused, reconsidering her words. "Do you, by any chance, remember who they were?"

"There was an older gent with a beard. Alan Dumfries, I think he said his name was," Reverend McGinnis said. "A young man was with him, dark hair and glasses, but the boy never spoke. He looked angry."

"Oh, and don't forget the Wesleys," Edward added. "Unforgettable! Never seen so many gingers in one family before." He paused, considering. "Let me see. Oh, yes, the self-dense and history teachers, Loomis and Black, came in." His eyes twinkled as he added, "I believe you might a romance or two blooming amongst your staff. They were escorting your science and math teachers, lovely ladies."

"A Miss Vickers and Miss Smith," The Reverend McGinnis said with a slight smile. "There was one other chap who came by. He brought another classmate. Patsy, what was that fellow's name?"

"Snaps, I think, the chemistry teacher," Patricia replied. Then she grinned at the ladies. "I'm sure you know who I mean, the dark and sexy fellow." Edward rolled his eyes, and the priest laughed aloud. "I don't think we caught the younger man's name, but he was terribly upset. You could see that he'd been crying. Perhaps Hermione had a young man?"

"No," Sybil-Hermione answered softly.

"Well," Mrs. Weathersby replied, "he seemed absolutely devastated. Such a handsome boy, tall, stormy gray eyes, and the most lovely blond hair."

 **July 5, 1996**

It was a miserable gathering that met with the young witch in Dumbledore's office that evening. The Headmaster shifted in his seat. "Miss Granger," he spoke gently, "I know this is a traumatic time for you, but we need to make plans."

She lifted her red-rimmed eyes to look at him. "Yes, Headmaster?"

He frowned. "Although you are still considered a minor under the law until September 19, we've decided that, under the circumstances, to treat you as an adult. However, there are some things you need to do such as -"

"Why?" she asked. "I'm dead, right?" She began to cry. "Sometimes I -"

"Hermione Granger, don't you dare finish that thought!" Poppy Pomfrey shouted.

Minerva nodded at Severus over the weeping girl's head. They'd have to keep her mind and body busy to keep her from despair. "Miss Granger, we are all here for you. You do know that, don't you? We want you to finish your studies."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione whispered as she took the tissue. "Yes, I'd like that!"

"We think you can finish your NEWTS this summer," Minerva added.

"This summer?" she gasped. "I can't possibly finish in two months!"

"Of course you can't," Severus told her off-handedly. "You're just a stupid, lazy girl." He crossed his long legs and lounged back in the chair, eyeing her mockingly.

"You utter arse!" Hermione shrieked. Her tears were forgotten, now that her temper was riled. "How dare you!"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," he growled menacingly, though he didn't change his posture. "And detention for insulting a teacher."

"You can't take points out of term time!" she argued. "Besides I'm not your student anymore!"

He gave her a disdainful look, eying her up and down as if she were an insect. Then he sniffed. "You are almost as much fun to wind up as McGonagall," he told her with a sudden grin. "Almost."

The responding laughter cleared the air. "Thank you, Severus," Minerva continued, "I think." She returned to Hermione. "Yes, you can, Hermione, and you will."

"From your transcripts," Dumbledore added, looking at her from over the tops of his half-moon spectacles, "you could probably have passed them this past June." He looked down at the parchments he was shuffling around. "Yes, in fact, you should have been offered the chance to sit a few of the exams last year." He turned to face his deputy. "You are quite right, Minerva," he conceded. "I think we should offer early exams to accelerated students."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Do you really think I can complete my studies so quickly?"

"I can quite understand your unwillingness to believe your elders, Miss Granger," Snape drawled sarcastically. "After all, Poppy is a well-known liar. Minerva blindly blows smoke up everyone's backside, and our esteemed Headmaster is nothing but a blithering idiot."

While the others hid their grins, Hermione gasped in outraged shock. "How dare you!" she exclaimed. "You are such an incredibly rude and horrid git!"

"While I, on the other hand," he continued as if she hadn't said a word, "am the only truthful member of staff, and you can certainly believe me when I tell you that, yes, you are capable of passing your N.E.W.T.S. by the end of the summer."

"You are impossible," she shrieked. "I don't know why anyone would-" Hermione stopped in mid-sentence. "Oh."

"Almost." Snape gave her another shark-like grin. "Now, that you've finished fishing for compliments," he continued, "perhaps we could get along with this little meeting? Some of us have other things to do."

Although Dumbledore tried to keep the laughter from his voice, he wasn't entirely successful. "Ahem, yes, well, Miss Granger, I would also request that you assist me in a research project for the Order."

"Of course," she replied quickly, her eyes lighting up.

"I think we should let Robert McGonagall know about Hermione's existence," Poppy added. "She is entitled to her parent's estate, and he can aid with establishing her credentials when she is re-introduced to the world."

"Great minds must think alike," Minerva chuckled. "That's why I already have him working on it." She patted Hermione on the shoulder. "He's found away to liquidate your parent's assets, and the estate is being discretely converted to galleons and set up in a vault for you at Gringotts."

"You what?" Snape asked, his eyebrow arched. "How dare you include your ridiculous brother in on what is supposed to be an Order secret? Did you, in all your Gryffindor arrogance, even check with any of us first, or did you simply put us all at risk?

"Excuse me?" Minerva said slowly. "Are you suggesting that I'd do anything to jeopardize our lives?" Her cheeks were turning red with anger.

"Now, see here, Severus," Albus was saying.

He wrinkled his nose as if smelling something foul. "Well, not you exactly," Severus continued, "but your brother-"

The red in her face shaded to a violet hue, and she cut him off. "You are _not_ implying, I'm sure, that my brother would take financial advantage -"

"Well," he drawled, "you Scots are a notoriously tight-fisted, avaricious bunch." He took his chin in his hand as if in puzzlement. "I often wonder if the lot of you are descended from goblins. The Scots certainly know how to pinch a penny until it squeals, and the goblins at Gringotts -"

Minerva bolted up out of her chair. "Severus Snape, I'll no be havin' me good name or that o' me brather besmirched like tha'! How dare ye speak o' the Scots! And ye sittin' there talkin' aboo oos like bein' thrify's a bad thin'!" She shook a finger in his face. "And I'll be tellin' ya anither thin' -"

Snape turned towards Hermione and grinned. "It's the brogue," he told her. "That's what makes it more fun to wind her up. If you can sufficiently antagonize the woman, you can barely understand her."

"Oooh, young man!" McGonagall cried. She laughed and sat back down. "Sometimes I am so tempted to -"

"To what?" he asked with a wicked grin, turning her threat into an innuendo.

"Now, that's quite enough," Dumbledore stated loudly. "Miss Granger doesn't need to hear all this." He thumped his fist on the desk. "Poppy will get you started on your lessons after Minerva helps you get settled in your new quarters. I'll expect you back in my office this afternoon to begin our project. After I've outline for you what we need to research, you can create a time schedule for yourself."

"This way, Hermione, dear," Minerva called. "You'll be using the secret passages, so that no one will see you. They connect the hospital wing, the Head's quarters, and the Headmaster's office. You'll have to be careful, so that Filius and Pomona don't see you."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "Though I do hate to put you out."

"It's Minerva," the older witch replied. "You're an adult now, and you won't be putting me out." She grinned and lowered her voice. "I don't always sleep in my own rooms."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock and her mouth fell open. "As if that's a secret," Snape said with a snort. "Shut your mouth, girl, you look like a fish."

"Woman," Hermione retorted, "however, I would prefer you to call me either Miss Granger or Hermione."

He glared at her, trying to break her spirit, but when she didn't budge, he nodded and relaxed his face. "Here are a few things I was able to get for you," he told her. He handed her a small black, cloth bag. "A simple enlargement charm will return them to size." He nodded again and left.


	10. Chapter 10

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

Chapter 10

 **July 10, 1996**

"Come in, Miss Granger," Severus called wearily. He sat back on his sofa, his back aching. All around the room were boxes filled with his belongings from Spinner's End. "It's nearly midnight. What do you want?"

She entered his rooms quietly and moved to stand next to where he sat. "How did you know it was me?"

He sighed. "Think, girl! Who else would be knocking on my door from the Head of Houses' secret passage?" He leaned back against the sofa, stretching his back, trying to alleviate the pain. "Pomona and Filius are abroad. Minerva and Albus went down to the Hogs Head."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly. She looked down at her bare toes sticking out from under the hem of her dressing gown. Quickly, she looked back up at him, so casually dressed in jeans and long sleeved T-shirt.

"Miss Granger," he said as patiently as his nature would allow, "what do you want? It's late."

She blushed. "I, I didn't think," she told him. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I just -" She shoved her hands into the pockets of her robe. "-I just wanted to thank you again."

He waved a hand at her. "There's no need to thank me," he snapped. "I did what any -"

"No," she interrupted him more forcefully than she intended. She smiled slightly at her nerve. "No, you have gone above and beyond what anyone would have done. You saved me from being kidnapped. You lied to me about my parents' death." She paused, and her face paled.

Severus kept a poker face. "Are you daring to call me a liar?" he asked coolly.

She smiled ruefully. "Perhaps I should say you deceived me instead," she replied carefully, "but I understand why you did it. You were trying to save me pain. For that, I thank you." She swallowed and cleared her throat.

"Are you finished?" he asked gruffly.

"No," Hermione nearly laughed, "I also want to thank you for bringing me some of my personal things. I know you couldn't bring everything; it would look suspicious if all my things were gone." She took a deep breath before adding. "And, I want to thank you for making sure Bellatrix LeStrange and Peter Pettigrew were caught and sent to Azkaban."

He hummed. "I brought you some basic clothing," he answered coldly. "And I helped catch two killers. I did nothing specifically for you."

"Yes, you did," she returned. "Any man who was thoughtful and considerate enough to include my Paddington bear -" She broke into tears.

Muttering to himself, Snape stood and handed her his handkerchief. "Miss Granger," he whispered, "please don't -"

With a sob, the young witch hurled herself at him. She clutched his T-shirt, dampening him with her hot tears. Snape understood all too well what heartache was like, and he allowed her to hold onto him, consoling her as best he could. "Miss Granger," he said once her wracking pain had played out, "grief is natural as are the tears that come with it. Let them flow, but do not let melancholy take root. Depression is a dark and terrible place." He pushed her back, establishing space between them, and folded his arms across his soggy shirt.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes on the handkerchief. "I'm sorry," she told him with a small hiccup, "I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

"Yes, well," he responded awkwardly, "as I said, let your grief have its day, then put it behind you. Keep yourself busy - body and mind. It does little good to dwell on what you cannot change. I know."

"I don't know how," she said. "How do you keep from thinking? From -"

"Sit down," he barked as he seated himself back on the couch. He waited until she had settled on the opposite side. "Miss Granger," he began slowly, "because of your recent loss - not only your parents, but also your previous life, being cut off from your friends - you will experience grief, but it is important not to allow yourself to become depressed."

Hermione swallowed hard and blinked. "How can I tell the difference?"

"Grief is natural, and everyone grieves in different ways," he explained, "but it is short-lived. You may tire easily, cry often, have difficulty concentrating, or experience trouble sleeping. It helps to have someone to talk with. Poppy or Minerva would be excellent choices for you."

"What about you?" she asked softly.

He snorted. "I'm the last person you should seek out for help in such matters," he told her. "I do not handle loss well."

Hermione starred at him quizzically as if he were a giant puzzle to solve. "I think you're all bark and no bite," she told him boldly. When she saw that real anger was building behind his eyes like a storm cloud, she quickly added, "Oh, but I'd never tell anyone. I mean, how could I? I'm dead, remember?"

"Go to bed, Miss Granger," he instructed her, and he pushed her towards his door. "Go to your bed, and go to sleep."

"Hermione," she answered. "According to the Headmaster, I am an adult. My name is Hermione." She stood on tip-toe to be closer to eye level with him, but her Gryffindor courage departed before his stern stare. "Um, anyway, I just wanted to thank you."

He snorted. "Go to bed, little girl," he told her, pushing her out of his door. Just before he closed the door in her face, he added, "And, you're welcome." He stood leaning against the door, listening to her footsteps fading away.

He was tired, tired of caring, tired of trying, tired of it all. He didn't deserve her thanks for merely doing what was decent. Turning, he eyed the piles of books on the floor. _To hell with them_ , he thought angrily. _They'll be there in the morning._

Severus kicked a path through his precious books towards his liquor cabinet, stirring up dust. He sneezed twice, and instead of reaching for a tumbler, he took the bottle. Opening the bottle, he paused only long enough to notice the color of the liquid inside. _Hmph!_ he thought. _It's almost the color of Granger's eyes._

He turned up the bottle for a long drink before heading towards the sofa. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for long, no doubt a remnant of his dysfunctional childhood. He snorted. _Always on edge, never knowing what to expect when Da came home._ He took another long swig from the bottle.

 _The the only thing I miss about the Muggle world_ , he thought morosely, _is watching television. That bubble-gum for the brain keeps you from thinking. It was the only way Mum and I could relax. That was until we needed money for food, and the set had to go_. Another long drink from the bottle slipped down his throat. He was relaxing more.

 _I'll bet Granger watched television with her parents_. He chuckled sourly. _I'll bet her parents were good, kind, not a dirty, drunken father and a weak, cowardly mum. I'll bet she was loved._

A sudden rage engulfed him, rage and despair. He threw the bottle into the fireplace and covered his face with his hands. That's when the tears came.

 **July 11, 1996**

Severus poked at his chips, moving them around on his plate. His appetite, like his sleep, was eluding him again. He was used to it by now. _Lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of a life, what did it matter?_

He wiped his mouth and turned to watch Dumbledore load his toast with beans. As the old man dropped crumbs onto his bright blue robes, Severus frowned and pushed his plate away. He picked up his tea and began sipping the tepid liquid.

Dumbledore, swallowed, and frowned at Snape. "Is that all you're going to eat? That's not enough to keep a pixie alive. You're losing weight. Those Muggle denim trousers you've been favoring this summer look like they're going to fall off."

"I'm not hungry," he replied. Severus frowned and continued to sip his tea.

"That's the third day in a row you've skimped on breakfast," Poppy put in. "Severus, you can't keep going like -"

He interrupted her, changing the subject. "Minerva, have you seen Weena?"

Minerva shook her head and set down her fork. "Sosty?" she called.

The little old elf appeared with a pop. "Missy Min needing something?" Minerva nodded her head towards her younger colleague, and Sosty turned. "Master Severus, sir, you needing Sosty's help?"

"Do you know where Weena is? I have called for her several times this morning, but she has not appeared," Snape told her.

Old Sosty nodded. "Weena being re-trained," she replied. "She need lots of learning. Malfoy training bad. Very wrong for school elf." She shot a glance at Hermione, who sat next to Poppy. "Sosty train Weena personally."

Snape cleared his throat. "Thank you, Sosty," he answered politely. "I would also like to thank you for unpacking the rest of my books."

Sosty frowned and shook her head. "No, Master Severus, sir," she said slowly. "Sosty not put away books. Weena not put away books."

"Well, which elf did it?" he requested. "I would merely like to thank him or her. It was a job well done, and I would like to request this elf to -"

"No elf touch Master Severus' things," Sosty stated almost forcefully. "Hogwarts elves know better."

A giggle was heard from Hermione. "It was me, Professor," she admitted.

"What?" he demanded. Snape looked ready to snap her in half. "Did you just say you broke into my rooms and-"

She grinned. "There wasn't much breaking in, sir," she dared say. "Your wards were fairly easy to-" Hermione blanched as she realized the audacity of what she had done, and she began to back-track. "I didn't, I mean, I only wanted to help," she blurted out. "You've done so much for me, and there were still so many books and things you needed to put away, and, well, I just thought we were becoming friends and-"

"We are not friends!" he shouted.

Like a Renaissance painting, a tableau of fearful anticipation, the others froze with held breath and waited her response. Hermione's bottom lip trembled, but there was determination in her soft brown eyes. "After all you've done for me," she said slowly, feeling her way with her words, "I'll always be grateful. And, it doesn't matter whether or not you want to be my friend, I'll be yours."

"You overstepped your bounds, Miss Granger," he told her coldly. But his dark eyes flickered with fear, as they were held by the caring embrace of her warm brown eyes.

She nodded. "Yes, I did," she agreed, "and I'm sorry."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, breaking the tenseness. "Well-intentioned you may have been, Miss Granger," he explained, "but very much in the wrong. You should never be in Professor Snape's rooms; it isn't seemly."

Poppy coughed loudly into her napkin causing the Headmaster to blush. "What the Headmaster meant," Minerva added with a slight smile, "was that you should have asked first." She patted the old man's knee with one hand and Snape's shoulder with the other.

"Again, I am sorry, Professor," she told him. "I didn't think. I just wanted to help, and, well-" She sighed. "I've already re-organized the potions closet in the infirmary, and outlined a course of study for myself and a time-table for helping out Professor Dumbledore, and well, I was bored."

There was something in her eyes that unnerved him, and he stared at her with his black, basilisk eyes. "The books were undamaged, and properly shelved," he admitted slowly. "You are forgiven."

"Thank you," she sighed with relief.

"But!" he snapped, his tone harsh. "But, if ever you do anything so foolish again, I will-" He paused, changing his voice as he tilted his head. "Bored, you say?" An evil grin slowly curled his lips. "Well, you will begin a special summer term, one that will accelerate your sixth year classes. If you are as intelligent as everyone claims, you will even complete your seventh year of instruction. I will be giving you individualized instruction, and you will complete them all before the first of the year." He stood and started for the door. Wheeling back around, he called out, "Well, come along, girl."

Her jaw dropped, and she scrambled to catch up.


	11. Chapter 11

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

Chapter 11

 **August 25, 1996**

Hermione staggered into the staff room, where dinner was being served. She flopped down into her accustomed chair next to Poppy and set two huge books on the table near her elbow. The young witch's problem hair looked like one of Pomona's prickly persimmons, and her clothes were stained and disheveled. But her blood-shot honey brown eyes, gleamed with delight.

Snape, frowning darkly, followed her. Sitting down next to Minerva, he poured himself some tea and filled his plate with food.

"We haven't seen the two of you in a while," Minerva said carefully. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "It's good to see you eating. No, don't stop, Severus. We're all a bit worried about you is all. And don't frown at me like that!" She added with a hiss.

"Great stars!" Poppy exclaimed, pinching her nose with her fingers. "What have the two of you been doing?"

"Working non-stop," Hermione replied grinned and piled her plate with food. "I think we've covered the sixth year syllabus, maybe even part of seventh year." She paused to swallow several forkfuls of food. "Oh, but the best part is we're working on a new version of a strengthening potion," she answered happily, "and a way to improve the flavor and make it twice as strong."

Dumbledore's shaggy white eyebrows shot upward on his face. "Severus? Is this true?"

Snape smiled slightly and nodded.

 **August 26, 1996**

Outside, the humidity and temperatures were sweltering. The merciless sun burned across a white sky, playing hide and seek behind blackened, rain filled clouds. But the cruel clouds refused to release the rain, and people and creatures alike were miserable. Even now at nearly sunset, just past dinner, the temperatures were abnormally high.

Dumbledore drank down yet another pain potion and sighed. He knew he looked every minute of his one hundred and fifteen years, and he felt twice that old. He was tired, oh, so tired. Thanks to the combined efforts of Severus and Poppy, the curse still held at bay, but they knew that his time was limited. This was why he'd recalled the staff two weeks early. He drank a half portion of pain potion, shuddered at the taste, and handed it back to a worried Minerva.

"No more, Minerva," he said with a shake of his head. He managed to smile at her worried face.

"There have been a few changes in staff as you can see." He pointed towards the end of the table where Remus Lupin and Sirius Black sat. Remus is back with us, and he'll be teaching the divination classes while Sybil in on Sabbatical. The gentleman sitting next to him is Sirius Black, and he'll be teaching history of magic."

Several of the staff members drew back in fear and shock, and Black's shoulders slumped. Septima Vector, who was sitting beside him, reached out and squeezed his hand.

Dumbledore frowned. "There's no need for worry," he assured them. "Sirius has been exonerated of all charges and is completely innocent -"

Severus snorted loudly, and Black shot him a dark look.

"-of all charges," Dumbledore continued. "Peter Pettigrew was captured earlier this summer. It seems that he was the one who betrayed the Potters and faked his own death, framing Mr. Black." He watched his staff closely, and although none save Vector seemed ready to embrace their newest colleague, they didn't seem ready to stone him either.

The Headmaster took a deep breath. "I've persuaded Horace Slughorn - some of you may remember him - to return out of retirement to fill the potions position." He nodded towards Slughorn.

"Well, hello, everyone," Horace Slughorn said with good cheer. "I do believe I know everyone here. In fact," he added, his belly shaking with good humor, "I believe I've taught everyone here. Good heavens, Albus! And there is little Aurora Sinistra! She was always one of my favorite little snakes."

Dumbledore continued. "Severus will be taking the Defense position and will remain Head of Slytherin House, but Aurora has just agreed to be co-head of house for Slytherin for this year. Severus is going to be very busy this year with an apprentice."

Severus gave them a tight, fake smile. "Yes," he drawled sarcastically, "won't I just?"

Ignoring Severus' comment, Dumbledore continued, "And that's our other big change for this year. Although Severus will be teaching Defense, he has graciously agreed to take on an apprentice in potions."

A tight frown on his face, Severus replied, "I truly appreciate your informing me of my acceptance of him. How thrilling it is to know one's life is being arranged for one." Delivered in flat sarcastic tone, Snape made his feelings known.

Dumbledore smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, my boy, but we need the help, and he's agreed to teach for a year if I could get you to accept his apprenticeship." He paused to watch Snape's face. "So I agreed for you. I'm placing him in the muggle studies position when he arrives; however-"

"Muggle studies?" Pomona Sprout questioned. "What about Charity?"

Dumbledore tried to side-step Pomona's question. "I'm afraid we don't know where Charity is, my dear," he told her gently.

Minerva asked in a business-like manner, "Should I have the house elves place the American near Severus' quarters in the dungeon, or closer to Horace's rooms?"

"Put him near the potions' lab," the Headmaster replied with a yawn. "Oh!" he covered his mouth with his hand. "I must apologize, the pain potion -"

"Is doing what it's designed to do," Madam Pomfrey snipped. "Really, Albus, you need to rest if you want to have any hope of recovery."

"Headmaster," Lupin asked softly, "if you're expecting war to break out this year, we need to make plans for the students. You remember what happened to the Granger's this summer?"

"Oh, yes," Pomona said sadly. She patted Filius' arm. "Our portkey sent us to Madrid instead of Paris. We were stuck at the travel agency when we heard the horrible news."

The Headmaster looked at each person at the staff table, holding their eyes long enough to instill the seriousness of his next words. "In sending his people to kill the Grangers, Tom has already declared war, and you are right, Remus. We've got to be prepared. I need to know-"

"Albus?" Flitwick interrupted him. "Your hand, how bad is it?"

He inhaled deeply. "Oh, I'm quite done for, I'm sure," he said cheerfully, "which means, we must make plans. Now! I need to know that I can count on all of you, which is why I'm asking for an Unbreakable Vow." Bleak stunned silence reigned for a long, long moment, a moment seemingly suspended in time.

Dumbledore continued. "Understand that in doing this, you'll be putting your life in danger. If you aren't absolutely sure you can do this, I'll release you from your teaching contract with no stain on your record. I'll even supply you with a stellar recommendation as well as assist you in finding another position."

"Would you like to take our vows now?" Septima Vector asked. "I'm sure we're all quiet ready."

Minerva smiled at the younger Gryffindor. "Whenever each of you makes your decision, just come find me. I'll make all arrangements - no matter what you choose."

"Excuse me," Pomona Sprout asked in a quiet voice, "I'm still rather concerned. What do you mean 'we don't know where Charity is'?"

Minerva replied gently, "Just what we said, Pomona. We don't know where she is." Minerva blushed and bowed her head over the parchment; she hated having to stretch the truth.

Flitwick asked suddenly, "Does Charity's disappearance have to do with the murder of the Grangers? Are the Aurors investigating?"

"Yes," Pomona cried, "shouldn't there be a search for a missing witch? Surely the Aurors are trying to find her!"

Seeing Minerva wavering on the edge of being unable to stick to the story they'd concocted, Severus stepped in. "I'll be happy to answer that," he said quickly. "In June, there was a great row. Minerva, Poppy, and the Charity were all involved. Accusations were flung around and wands were drawn." He paused to grin smugly at the Head of Gryffindor as shocked voices rang out around the staff room.

Filius Flitwick's mouth dropped open, and Pomona Sprout gasped. "Minerva!" she shouted. "Poppy!" She jerked her head back and forth from one witch to the other. "Is this true? Did you, Poppy, and Charity really -"

"Oh, yes," Severus drawled. "It woke me from a sound sleep, and I was absolutely shocked."

"Yes, well," Dumbledore said rather loudly, "no more talk of that then." He frowned at Severus, but there was still a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Let's move on, shall we?"

"Headmaster, I'm a bit concerned about this American fellow, Snape's apprenctice. How can we be sure he's on our side? What do we know about the fellow?" Madam Pince asked.

"Well," Lupin supplied, "I know that he's been thoroughly vetted by Aurors Shacklebolt and Tonks." That seemed to settle the question about the mysterious American's loyalties.

"Headmaster, can you tell us anything about him?" Rolanda Hooch asked. "What part of America is he from?"

"Is he rich?" quipped Aurora Sinistra. "Single?"

Dumbledore smiled as the staff laughed. He paused to fumble in his pocket for his spectacles. "Let me see," Dumbledore said, settling his half-moon glasses on the tip of his long, crooked nose and unfurling a parchment. "I believe the lad is not quite twenty years old and from Texas. He holds degrees in herbology as well as potions and has studied 'root-doctoring' whatever that is." He cocked an amused eyebrow. "I'm afraid there is no mention of his marital or financial status."

"A double degree? Potions and herbology? And at only twenty years old? That is most impressive," Flitwick exclaimed enthusiastically. "I'd wager he'd be a Ravenclaw if we sorted him."

"Herbology?" Pomona Sprout quizzed. "Oh, that's brilliant! Perhaps, I'll be able to pick his brain about American magical flora."

"I've never met a root-doctor, though I've heard of them," Poppy cried. She looked around the table to explain. "Root-doctoring is a form of healing with herbals and homeopathic medicines." She cocked her head and nodded to herself. "Albus, this young man may be able to help your hand."

"Perhaps he may, but I received a missive from him just prior to our meeting," Dumbledore stated. "The lad's had a personal tragedy, it seems, and will not be arriving until after the first of the year."

Snape frowned. "What's happened?"

"Apparently, his father recently passed away. It seems that he is now without any familial ties at all."


	12. Chapter 12

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

Chapter 12

 **September 19, 1996**

"Severus," Dumbledore asked worriedly, "are you all right? You've been gone nearly all day." He rose and came from around his desk.

"For now," Severus answered tightly. "The Dark Lord wanted -"

"Shh!" Albus whispered the warning, jerking his head to the left. "Miss Granger is within hearing distance."

He waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. "I wouldn't concern myself with her. No doubt the little busy-body is already aware of my extra-curricular duties." The spy eased himself into a chair, nodded, and chuckled lightly. "The Dark Lord is wondering how her death was affecting Potter. He is under the impression that she is, well, was Potter's girlfriend. I did nothing to disabuse him of the notion."

"Hmmm," Dumbledore muttered. "And you told him?"

"That Potter was sick with anguish," he said, shifting in his chair. "He was furious to learn that Bella and Pettigrew were the ones who killed the Grangers and not Draco. I showed him that Draco, in a foolish attempt to restore his honor, had made sure they were sent to Azkaban, and I showed him my memories of Draco and Shacklebolt."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "And what did Tom say to that?"

Severus shook his head. "Oddly enough, he was mollified that the boy showed some gumption, and he said he would allow Draco one more chance to redeem himself by carrying out another mission."

"And when he learned that the Malfoys could not be found?"

"He was livid," Snape replied simply. He shrugged. "I might have suggested that Rodolphus had killed them out of revenge for his wife's re-incarceration."

"I'm sure LeStrange didn't appreciate your insinuation," the Headmaster remarked.

"He didn't have time," Snape replied. "The Dark Lord hit him with an avada."

"Well, at least that's another Death Eater out of our way," Dumbledore remarked with a sigh. "Severus, do you think you can lead Tom to believe Potter is on the verge of collapse?"

"Better," he quipped, "I can tell him the truth that more than one of us is on the edge of a breakdown. I know I am at any rate." He levered himself out of the chair, walked casually around the Headmaster's desk, reached into the bottom drawer, and removed a bottle. "Jagermeister?" He shuddered and replaced the bottle. "Don't you have anything else?"

"There's firewhiskey in my library, Severus," Dumbledore said with a laugh. "And Miss Granger has been doing some fine research there. She's already found a way to destroy the horcruxes. In fact, I would like your input on her findings and to plan a way to discover more of them." Together, they entered the library.

"Miss Granger," Severus acknowledged her while Dumbledore poured them a drink.

"Would you care for a gillywater?" Dumbledore asked the girl. "I generally keep some here for Minerva."

"Yes, please," she said answered the Headmaster. "And, Professor Snape," she turned to Snape, "could you look at my list? You've told us Tom-" She glanced quickly at Dumbledore until he nodded. "- claims to have seven horcruxes. There's the diary and the ring, which was a family heirloom, but I've learned that Salazar Slytherin also left behind a locket which passed into the Black family -"

"I've asked Sirius to track that down," Dumbledore said.

"There's more," Hermione declared. "Because Tom seems so puffed up with his own importance -"

Snape snorted. "That's one way to put it."

She smiled. "Anyway, I wondered if perhaps he'd have chosen items from the other founders. We know it's not Gryffindor's sword, but we believe it might be the cup of Helga Hufflepuff and possibly Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem."

"I've set Filius to working on finding the diadem," Dumbledore added.

"That makes sense," Snape agreed. "And, I think I may know where the cup is. Bella kept bragging that the Dark Lord had given her something of great value, and that she had secreted it in her vault at Gringotts."

"Perhaps Kingsley and Robert McGonagall could assist Pomona in recovering the cup from a legal perspective. After all, it is stolen property and rightfully -"

"No," Severus interrupted. "A legal battle would take far too long. Perhaps Miss Granger could get it." He grinned at her, and then he laughed at her look of confusion. "The girl can polyjuice herself as Bella and simply go retrieve it. Even though Bellatrix has been declared criminally insane, the death of her husband would create a legitimate legal reason for her to enter her vault. Have Robert McGonagall and Kingsley take her."

Dumbledore frowned. "Not Miss Granger," he said. "Let's have Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks go. They are Madam Lestrange's only next of kin, and Robert McGonagall can have them legally declared as her guardians, giving them power of attorney."

"Yes," Severus agreed with an eager nod. "We can get Robert to draw up some papers authorizing Andromeda and her daughter to inspect the vault, and while they are there, they can get the cup."

"But won't Rodolphus' family file a claim on the contents, too?" Hermione asked. "And what if her treatment works and Madam Lestrange regains her sanity?"

"That's very unlikely, my dear," Dumbledore explained. "Madam LeStrange was committed for criminal insanity, which is different from being hospitalized. Although she has been receiving medical potions and counseling -"

"Fat lot of good it's done the crazy bitch."

"Now, Severus, language please," Dumbledore chided him. "Even if her madness is cured, she still must serve time for her crimes. No, I assure you that Madam Lestrange will never be released, and as for the Lestranges filing a claim on the vault," he added with a grin, "Robert McGonagall is the best in the business. He'll tie the legal aspects of it up like a Gordian knot. They will never have a chance." He patted her shoulder. "Now, I expect it's past your bed time, I know it's past mine. Good night."

Severus nodded and held the door open for the girl. He walked her down the secret corridor to Minerva's rooms in silence.

"Good night, Professor Snape."

"Good night, Miss Granger," he told her. "Happy seventeenth birthday." He gave her a quick and tiny smile before turning and leaving.

 **October 23, 1996**

Severus, Lupin, and Black entered the Headmaster's office. "We've found another one," Severus stated.

Sirius dropped a locket on Dumbledore's desk with an ominous thud. "I feel like I need to wash my hands after touching it." He wiped them on the seat of his trousers. "A drink?" he looked around at the others.

"I wouldn't mind one," Lupin declared. "That locket, it gives me the shudders." He removed his coat and brushed it off, placing in on the back of a chair before sitting down.

"A small one for me," Dumbledore murmured. "Severus, be a good lad, would you, and fetch a bottle and glasses from my library, please? Where did you find it?" Totally engrossed in the examination of the locket, he missed the angry looked Snape sent him.

Whipping his robe behind him, Severus swept into Dumbledore's personal library only to come face to face with Hermione Granger's questioning face. He frowned. "Yes, we found the locket," he hissed a whispered answer. "And now that I've served my purpose, I'm sent to fetch like an elf."

Hermione placed a gentle hand on his chest to stop his angry tirade. "Professor Dumbledore didn't want Sirius or Professor Lupin to see me is all," she whispered.

Her soft words halted him, made him reassess the situation. "Still," he muttered, "I felt like a child being sent to my room."

She smiled. "Did you ever stop to think that the Headmaster thinks of you as the son he never had?"

He shoved her hand away. "Shite!" he hissed, storming past her to the liquor cabinet. Snatching out four glass tumblers and the firewhiskey, he slammed them on a tray.

"Tell me this," Hermione insisted in whispered haste, "who else does he even allow in his private rooms?"

"I neither know nor care," he returned, his anger rising.

Hermione gripped his arms tightly and held him still, treating him as she would Harry. "Stop it!" she hissed back. "You're always telling me to think, so you try it!" Her face was becoming as red as his. "Who else does Albus Dumbledore allow back here?"

He was livid. _How dare this chit tell me to think! How dare she try to instruct me!_ Then suddenly, the tiniest inkling of truth began to shimmer through the anger. He paused, his rigid posture relaxing fractionally. "Minerva, you, and me," he answered softly. "Occasionally Poppy."

She nodded, a smile threatening to show, and released him. "And in each case, why?"

He snorted. "Poppy, to examine his hand. You, because of the research on horcruxes. Minerva, -" A smug grin appeared. "-because they are having a torrid affair." His grin widened as she blushed. _So the know-it-all didn't know that?_

Hermione knew he was laughing at her embarrassment. "And yourself?" When he clammed up, refusing to answer, she answered herself. "Because he trusts you more than those dunderheads, because he considers you family."

Severus blinked. _Damn the girl! She's may be right._ He grunted at her, picked up the tray, and returned to the office.

 **November 17, 1996**

"Come in, Severus," Dumbledore called. "Harry and I were working on the horcrux problem."

Near the window was a small table with three chairs drawn up. As Severus approached, he noted with surprise that Potter merely nodded at him and slid his chair to the side allowing him room. Before Severus took the proffered chair, he removed his teaching robes and hung them up.

"Now, as I was saying, I've been up-dating, Harry, here," Dumbledore continued, "on the horcruxes we've found and destroyed." He reached for a parchment and slid it across the table to Snape.

As Severus examined the list carefully, Harry pointed out each item. "Professor Snape, sir," he said in his most respectful tone, "we've destroyed the diary, the ring, the cup, the locket, and the diadem -"

"You found Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem?" Snape asked. "That was unexpectedly fast. I thought it was lost ages ago."

Dumbledore smiled. "Never underestimate a Ravenclaw given a puzzle. You should have seen Filius! He was tracking it down like a bloodhound. Tenacious fellow!"

"And that makes five, sir," Harry said. "Are you sure, Professor, that there are seven?"

Snape looked at the young man. "Yes, Potter," he said, "I checked with several sources - Rastaban, Selwyn, Pius Thicknese, even the Dark Lord himself. There are seven."

"Thicknese?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.

"Oh, yes, Umbridge isn't the only one in the Ministry we should be wary of," Snape replied.

"That still leaves us with two," Harry put in.

Silence descended on the room as the three wizards sat in thought, but the silence was almost immediately broken by the chirping and fluttering of wings. A paper bird flew around the room twice before settling on Snape's shoulder. It unfolded in his hand when he touched it.

"Hermione used to make paper birds," Harry said wistfully. "I miss her."

"She did?" Dumbledore asked gently. "How interesting! What is it, Severus? Is something the matter?"

Severus' pale face had grown even whiter. "Headmaster," he began, then he paused to wet his lips, "Albus, do you think it would be possible for a horcrux to be created inside a living creature?" He balled up the paper in his fist.

"Inside another living creature?" Dumbledore murmured slowly. "Sweet Merlin! It all fits now."

"No!" Snape growled. "No! It cannot be!" Their eyes met over Potter's head.

"What?" Harry demanded. "What are you talking about?"

"Nagini?" Dumbledore asked, his voice tremulous.

Severus nodded and swallowed. Beads of sweat were standing out on his face. "Most assuredly the snake is one," he answered slowly.

"That makes six, then," Harry said with determination. "Professor, can you take me to the snake? I can kill it with the sword of Gryffindor."

"No, Harry," Dumbledore spoke up. "We can't put you at risk. Severus can take someone else."

"That," Snape said, "that will be very difficult. Nagini usually spends her winters hiding." He paused to stare at Harry, and then he swallowed hard. "But, I will find her."

"Good," Harry said with a smile. "And after she is dead, we can locate the last one horcrux and destroy it." He didn't see the horror filled expressions on Dumbledore's and Snape's faces.


	13. Chapter 13

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

Chapter 13

 **December 20, 1996**

"I believe the girl is now ready for NEWT testing," Snape informed the holiday staff. He ate several bites of food and washed it down with his tea.

"But that's extraordi-"

"Not when you have Severus pushing you and hounding you," Hermione replied wearily but happily. "I swear! He's absolutely brutal. But I've learned so much so fast!"

"Severus?" Poppy mouthed to Minerva. The women exchanged smiles.

Dumbledore smiled. "You sound thrilled to be Professor Snape's sole pupil," he remarked. "I would imagine that any other student would be horrified at the prospect."

Having wolfed down her food, Hermione wiped her mouth and beamed. "I don't want to sound rude," she said carefully, "but until I was working independently, I didn't realize how slow classes were. I mean -"

"Yes, yes," Snape snipped at her, "we understand. You're oh-so much smarter than everyone else." He wiped his mouth, and he waited.

"That's not what I meant!" she cried. "You make it sound like I think I'm better than everyone else, but -" She stopped as she noticed the smirk on his face and the gleam in his dark eyes. "Oh, you bully!" she declared. "You're teasing me again, aren't you?"

He sneered at her. "Almost."

She actually growled at him, and then she laughed. "Professor Dumbledore, when may I take the exams?" She frowned then, remembering. "And, for that matter, how can I take them when I'm supposed to be dead?"

"That's easily arranged, Miss Granger," Dumbledore told her. "As Headmaster, I have the authority to conduct any exams necessary. As for your deceased status, once again, we'll rely on Robert McGonagall. Of course, I'll have to get someone from outside the school to mark them, but whenever you are ready, we can begin."

"Tomorrow morning?" she asked excitedly.

"Of course, if that's what you'd like," Dumbledore replied. "We can test you first thing in the staff room."

 **December 21, 1996**

Severus peered into the staff room anxiously as he walked by. Hermione sat at the table absorbed in her exams. Her quill was flying over the parchment, and he felt a surge of pride go through him. _It was because of you that she has achieved so much in so short a time_ , he thought. _Maybe, just maybe you aren't totally worthless_.

Minerva, who was overseeing her testing, waved at him. He scowled in return and marched towards the Headmaster's office.

"Good morning, Severus," the Headmaster said cheerfully. His desk was piled high with official paperwork. "That new strengthening potion not only tastes much better, but also works better too. I haven't felt this good in ages."

"Thank you, Albus," Severus replied as he sat down. "Having Miss Granger here has proven most beneficial. Not only has she brewed all of the requisite potions for the infirmary while finishing her sixth year syllabus, but also she has completed studying for her NEWTS."

"No doubt because of your teaching ability," Dumbledore told him. "Nevertheless, she's quite a remarkable girl, don't you think?"

The younger wizard nodded. "She's bright, thoughtful, and ambitious."

"A Slytherin trait, Severus?" the old man asked, a twinkle in his eye. "That's high praise. You must like her a good deal."

He froze. "What. Is. That. Supposed. To. Mean?" he demanded, carefully enunciating each word.

"Oh, my boy, I meant nothing untoward!" Dumbledore assured him. "Nothing at all like that fiasco earlier this summer! I just meant that you like her."

Snape snorted. "She's tolerable," he admitted. "Her work has allowed me to research possible antidotes for your hand, and I believe I may find a cure before the end of the year." He looked at the Headmaster with anger. "I would prefer not to have to kill you."

"Neither would I," Albus quipped. "I'm not sure you'll have to." He took off his glasses and set them on top of the parchments. "Poppy and Minerva have teamed up against me in the matter."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

The Headmaster shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "When I had this little mishap -" Severus snorted, and Dumbledore frowned. "- Poppy insisted I go to St. Mungo's -"

"Which I told you to do-"

"- but I refused because I -"

"- think you know better than everyone else."

" -didn't want to lose my wand hand." Dumbledore glared at the younger wizard. "Poppy decided, against my express orders, to call Minerva -"

"Good for Poppy!"

Albus finally lost his temper. "Are you going to let me finish?" When Snape smirked and nodded graciously, the older wizard heaved an irritated sigh. "Well, to make a long story short," he continued, "Minerva gave me six months for either you or Poppy to find a cure, or she was going to force me to go to a healer."

Severus laughed humorlessly. "I should have called Minerva myself when I first saw your hand. So when are they taking you to St. Mungo's?"

"They're not," he retorted. "Not if you and Miss Granger can locate a cure for me over the holidays."

Snape was furious as he stormed back into his room. All the tiny twinges of good feeling were long gone, dropping away from him with every pounding step of his boots against the stone floor. _Albus the bastard! He just decided how I am to spend my Christmas holidays. Never mind that I had no plans of my own. Losers like me rarely do. But still, he just told me that I would be working with Hermione to find a cure for his own damn stupidity!_

Slamming the door and warding it, he headed straight for the liquor cabinet and poured himself the last of the firewhiskey. He meant to bolt the drink, but he only managed to swallow some of it the wrong way and nearly strangled himself. The coughing fit lasted far longer than the drink, and he spilled a great deal on himself.

He gazed longingly at the now empty liquor cabinet. He felt the tears welling up again and his throat tighten in response. _What is it with the damn tears?_ he wondered. _Maybe the Marauders were right, and I should have been called Snivellus! I'm certainly turning into a sniveling snot._

Throwing himself down on the sofa, he kicked off his boots and removed his coat followed by his shirt. The coat was wet with whiskey and smelled, so he tossed it onto the floor. _Stupid!_ He upbraided himself when he saw his Dark Mark; its oily malevolence shone out from his pale forearm. _But I was only a child, only eighteen when I took it! Don't all people make mistakes? Especially when they are only eighteen?_

He scrubbed at his tears with the dirty shirt, disgusting himself with its smell. Then he threw it on top of his boots and coat. _Something else to clean_ , he thought. Pausing, he looked around. His quarters were clean, neat, organized, and he didn't remember doing it. "Sosty? Dobby? Weena? One of you damned elves answer me!" he yelled.

Instantly, little Weena appeared. "Potions Master, Master, sir, call Weena?"

"Did you do this? Clean and organize my rooms?" he roared.

Although Weena shook with fear, she remembered Sosty's training, and she held her ground. "Yes, sir, Potions Master, Master, sir," the little elf answered. Her ears perked high with pride. "Weena finish _proper_ training. Weena take good care of Potions Master, Master, sir."

Snape cast his eyes around the room. Everything was perfect. He nodded. "Dismissed," he muttered, and the little elf vanished. _At least it wasn't that damned girl again_ , he thought. _And that old man asking me if I liked her! Of course I like her! Everyone likes her; she's a likable person._

He trudged into his bedroom, sat down on the bed and peeled off his socks. He looked at the heel of the left sock. _Another damn hole! Just like the hole in my heart, the hole in my life._ Again the tears fell. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he demanded of his sock. Dropping the offending item, he crawled into the bed and wept into his pillow.


	14. Chapter 14

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!" Constructive criticism can be directed via PM.

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 14**

 **January 5, 1996**

The house elves had set forth a feast of epic proportions for the return of Hogwarts' staff. Dumbledore sighed and gazed around at his staff. They were just finishing dessert and waiting patiently for the meeting to begin.

Filch, finishing quickly, stood abruptly. "If it's all right with you, Headmaster," he addressed Dumbledore, "I'll begin my inspection of the castle and grounds."

Albus Dumbledore swallowed a bit of toffee pudding and wiped his mouth. "Of course, Mr. Filch," he replied pleasantly. "Oh, would you be on the lookout for Mr. Potter? I've asked him to come see me. We've several things to discuss."

"As you wish, Headmaster," Filch answered respectfully and closed the staff room door behind him as he left.

"Good evening," he said with a smile. "I hope you all had a pleasant Christmas holiday and are well-rested."

Nods and murmurs answered him.

"Good," he continued, "If everyone is finished?" He paused, and when he was sure his staff was done, he called for the house elves to clear the table. Forcing another smile, he began his opening speech. "I'll just catch you up on a few quick items, then we'll break so you can get resettled in your rooms."

A rather loud belch escaped Hagrid's control at that moment. "Uh, sorry about that," he said with a blush.

Good-natured chuckles rang the room. "Not at all, Rubeus," the Headmaster said with a smile.

Severus stiffened in his seat and stood up quickly. Without a word to anyone, only a brisk nod towards Dumbledore, he quickly left the room.

"Rude," Septima Vector muttered under her breath. "I wonder about his loyalties."

"I always have," Black murmured back as he scooted his chair closer to her.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said softly, "would you be so kind as to conduct the rest of the meeting?" He slowly stood from his chair and moved to the window, his back to the room. His blue eyes lost their sparkle and filled with utter sadness as he watched a lonely, black clad figure running towards the forbidden forest.

Severus stood for a moment just outside of the forest's edge and bent over to catch his breath. A fraction of a second more and he'd straightened up, rolled his sleeve back, and pressed his wand to the throbbing Dark Mark. In a flash, the poor boy was gone, snatched away by Tom Riddle.

The staff room door creaked open a crack, and Argus Filch shoved his head inside. "I caught this fellow snooping around the front gate," he whined. The caretaker opened the door a bit more, revealing a shadowy presence, which he pushed forward. "In you go!"

"It must be young Mr. Potter," Slughorn gushed. "Charming fellow, you know."

"Oh, my!" Pomona Sprout exclaimed under her breath as her jaw dropped.

"Bloody hell!" Rolanda Hooch muttered, her eyes nearly bugging out.

"Hot damn!" Septima Vector whispered sotto voce. "Aurora, would you look at that." She nudged her friend in the ribs.

"Yippee ki yay!" Aurora Sinistra, her eyes rapidly flickering up and down the stranger, muttered back to Vector.

"Have mercy!" Irma Pince murmured as she pressed her hand to her heart.

"Sweet Merlin!" Minerva McGonagal gasped aloud.

"Uh, no, ma'am," came a man's voice. It was a deep Southern bass, and his words poured over the room like whiskey into a tumbler. The tall young man, all six feet four inches of him, ducked his head respectfully and doffed a black Stetson.

He had dark obsidian eyes that danced with merriment. His coal black hair, swept back from his forehead, curled around the collar of his wrinkled white button-down shirt. The shirt fit him well and was tucked into a pair of well-worn blue jeans. They hung on trim hips and were secured by a wide, black leather belt, embossed with ravens.

A grin presented them with the sight of perfect, straight white teeth which gleamed from a sun-tanned face. A strong jaw with a Roman nose gave the face a tough, no-nonsense look, a face that could bring fear to those around it especially with the cheeks covered in a few days' worth of stubble. But his smile showed dimples on either side of his mouth, giving way to a boyish look.

He patted his hat against his long blue jean encased leg, tugged on his blue jean jacket, and wiped his dragon hide cowboy boots carefully on Filch's rug before he stepped into the room. "The name's Merle."

All blood drained from Poppy Pomfrey's face, and the room wavered in and out of focus as the table reached up and pulled her down.

"Poppy!" Pomona Sprout cried out.

Dumbledore wheeled around in time to see Horace set the medi-witch back up-right in her chair. His eyes then focused on the tall stranger, whose entrance had apparently caused the disruption. "Amazing!" the Headmaster said. He moved blindly towards his seat, his eyes trained upon the newcomer.

"Here, Hagrid," Slughorn urged, standing up with a grunt. "Help me hold her up. That's right." He pulled out a vial. "Some simple smelling salts ought to bring her round."

"At her age, common sense should have prevented the problem to begin with. Unfortunately, the malady seems to be a contagious," mumbled Sirius glaring at Septima Vector. Only Pomona Sprout and Irma Pince looked repentant. The other women around the table only glared at Black.

Poppy Pomfrey, pale faced and visibly shaken, came round. "Thank you, Horace," she murmured.

Slughorn, retrieving his smelling salts, handed her a glass of water. "Any time, my dear," he teased her with a smile, "I don't mind one bit having a lovely, younger woman swoon in my arms."

"Are you Merlin Harper?" Dumbledore asked. There was an undertone of uncertainty in his authoritative voice. He stood, hands gripping the back of his chair.

" _Merle_ Harper, sir," the younger wizard stressed his first name. He seemed rather self-conscious of the women's reactions. "My parents liked country music, Merle Haggard in particular."

"Merle," Dumbledore tried out the name. "Please be seated then, Mr. Harper." He gestured, offhandedly conjuring a chair with wordless, wandless magic. "You'll have to pardon us, my boy," he said with a slight chuckle, "if we seem to be staring." He moved around to sit down. "You bear an amazing resemblance to our potions professor."

Harper seated himself, setting his hat on the table in front of him. "You mean Master Snape?" he asked curiously. A slight frown line formed between his eyes. He cast a curious look at the men at the table.

"Severus isn't here at the moment," Dumbledore explained. "Perhaps we should show our good manners and introduce ourselves. I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster."

Merle stood up and reached across the table to shake hands enthusiastically. "I'm honored, sir," he gushed. "Honored. I've heard many amazing things about you, sir. Why, back home, you're required reading."

Blue eyes flew open in amazement behind half-moon spectacles. "I'm, I'm astounded," Dumbledore stammered. "I'm afraid I must reassess your qualifications if that's the poor type of education you get in the Colonies." He laughed.

The answering grin nearly blinded them. "Yes, sir," Merle said as he sat back down.

"Oh, Albus, stop teasing him," McGonagall said with a smile. "Mr. Harper, I suppose you've met Mr. Filch, our caretaker. He's the gentleman who led you in. I'm Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor house, and professor of transfiguration."

Harper dipped his head respectfully. "Ma'am."

Minerva's face reddened, and she pressed her hand to her chest with a girlish giggle. "Oh, dear," she said, flustered, "I'm very flattered, young man, but I'm no queen."

"Ma'am?" the young man asked. Puzzlement clouded his dark eyes. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I think I can translate. Filius Flitwick, by the way," the small man said as he reached to shake hands with Harper, "Head of Ravenclaw and professor of charms." He smiled. "You see, Mr. Harper," he stated, shifting into his lecturing mode, "in the UK, one only addresses the Queen as 'ma'am,' and so it seems a bit -"

"Oh, no, ma'am," Harper blurted, a fierce blush rising on his features, "I meant no disrespect. Down in Texas, we're taught to use the titles 'ma'am' and 'sir' to show respect." He swallowed. "If it bothers you, I'll do my best to curb the habit, but it's gonna be hard."

"I don't think it will be a problem, Mr. Harper," Dumbledore told the young man, "now that Filius has straightened us all out."

The younger wizard sighed in relief. "Yes, sir, thank you," he told Dumbledore before he turned to Filius and added, "It's nice to meet you, Professor Flitwick, sir."

"Rolanda Hooch," the flying instructor introduced herself. "I teach flying and referee quidditch."

"Ma'- " he stopped himself with a grin. "Professor Hooch."

"Rubeus Hagrid," the big man boomed, "I teach care of magical creatures."

"Professor Hagrid," Harper repeated. He shook hands with Hagrid and nodded politely to Hooch.

"I'm Pomona Sprout," the next teacher at the table said with a laugh. "I'm head of Hufflepuff house. We'll have to get you sorted, won't we, Minerva?" She laughed again. "I teach herbology, and I can't wait to pick your brain."

"Ma'am," he drawled back, teasing the older witch. She cackled with delight.

Sitting up tall in her seat, Irma Pince smiled. "I'm Irma Pince, the librarian. If you need any help, just ask."

"Ma'am, um, Madam Pince," he said with a nod.

"I'm Aurora Sinistra, but please call me Aurora," the Slytherin said in a decidedly flirtatious tone. "I teach astronomy. This is my colleague S -"

"Septima," her friend put in, "Septima Vector. I teach arithmancy. It's nice to meet you, Merle. I may call you Merle?"

He grinned at the ladies. "Miss Aurora, Miss Septima," he replied politely, dragging out his Southern drawl flirtatiously. "Of course you can call me Merle." He looked around the room. "In fact, I'd just as soon go by my first name with y'all. Mr. Harper is my daddy's name."

"Remus Lupin," the werewolf introduced himself. "I'll be teaching divination this year. By Jove, you look -" He stopped and shook his head, then reached out to shake hands.

"I'm Sirius Black," Black interrupted. "I've got history of magic." He held out his hand.

Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black," the younger wizard said solemnly. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Horace Slughorn," the portly wizard declared. He reached forward with a soft grunt to shake hands. "I'll be teaching potions this year, so I suppose you'll be working with me too." He laughed, his belly shaking. "In fact, I taught Severus when he was a boy. I'm very proud of him, you see, surpassing his old teacher like he did and obtaining Mastery." He paused. "It's absolutely remarkable how much you look like him. Isn't it, Poppy?"

Ashen faced, Poppy nod absently. "You're the very image of Severus. It's rather uncanny," she murmured. _Surely it couldn't be!_ She continued to stare at Harper.

"This is Poppy Pomfrey our school matron and medi-witch," Slughorn explained. "I can't imagine why she's forgotten to introduce herself." He chuckled.

The staff room door creaked open, and Argus Filch stuck his head in the door. "Here's the Potter boy, Headmaster," he grumbled. "You want he should wait here or in your office?"

"Please have him wait in my office, Mr. Filch," Dumbledore replied. "All right, that should be enough for tonight. Minerva, would you show Professor Harper to his rooms? We'll meet for breakfast in the morning in the Great Hall. Good night."


	15. Chapter 15

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 _No help for you now, Poppy, old girl. If what you suspect is correct, all hell is about to break loose!_

 **Thank you to RedPhoenix13 for pointing out that my scene spacers were missing. They vanished somewhere between Explorer & Google. Here is (hopefully) the corrected version of Chapter15.**

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 15**

As the meeting broke up, Poppy Pomfrey wandered along lost in a fog of memories. _This young American looks so much like Severus!_ The thought frightened her. She had to know, had to find out!

Moving like a machine on automatic, she made it to the infirmary, where she took the medical pensieve from the supply closet, making a beeline for her bedroom. Once inside, she double locked and warded her door. Then with great deliberation she settled the pensieve onto her bureau, carefully removed a memory from long ago, and placed it carefully into the bowl of the pensieve. Next, she reached into the top drawer of the bureau and removed a baby bottle.

The bottle was an old-style one, probably from the 1970's, and inside were several thick strands of memories. These were not her own memories. They belonged to a very special student from long ago, who had come to her in distress. These memories were the only thing she had left of that girl. Opening the bottle, Poppy gently scooped out the misty curls with her wand and dropped them into the pensieve.

For many minutes after she dropped those diaphanous threads of memory into the basin, she did nothing but stare in fear. The wispy, vaporous thoughts swirled around the bowl hypnotically. It was a huge memory, a damning one for her career. She sighed. _No help for you now, Poppy, old girl. If what you suspect is correct, all hell is about to break loose!_ Dipping her face forward, Poppy entered the memory.

 **Poppy's Memory**

 **February 9, 1976**

"Well, young lady," Poppy Pomfrey said bluntly, "there's no doubt you're with child." She handed another tissue to the weeping Fifth year. "No need for crying now, dear. You aren't the first girl to find herself in the family way a bit too early, and I dare say you won't be the last."

The girl wiped her eyes. "I'm just so upset with myself for letting this happen," she said softly. "I have plans, Madam Pomfrey. I want to be a nurse, and I don't want to let go of those dreams now just because-" She paused to blow her nose. "-just because of this-"

"Gryffindors aren't general known for looking before they leap," Poppy said with a rueful smile. "Like I said, you aren't the first, and you aren't likely to be the last." She shifted in her chair. "You do have options, you know, but you'll have to discuss them with your parents."

"Bloody hell," the younger witch gasped. "Do I have to? Can't we just keep this a secret?"

Poppy laughed aloud. "And just how long do you think you can keep it a secret? Do you think your mother won't notice? And how do you plan to explain why you aren't returning to school? Hogwarts doesn't allow expectant young women."

"Leave Hogwarts?" she cried. "It never dawned on me that I'd have to leave school!" As the enormity of the consequences of her actions suddenly descended upon her like a load of brick bats, the young Gryffindor paled. "Sweet Circe!"

"I'm very sorry, but the school rules are absolute on this matter," the school Matron said firmly. "Perhaps there is a Muggle school which will accept young mothers-to-be? One where you can study nursing? I'll be happy to write you a reference." She softened as the look of horror deepened on the girl's face. "I'm sure your parents-"

"I can't tell them, Madam Pomfrey," she insisted. "Mum would kill me, and my dad-" She shook her head. "No, no, I can't face them."

"You won't have to face them alone," she replied evenly. "Your Head of House will take you to see your parents and help to explain the situation."

"Professor McGonagall?" was the squeaky reply. "Oh, no, I couldn't stand the thought of disappointing her, too. It's bad enough that I've done this to myself." She sat there quietly for a moment. "And now I'll have to hurt my parents, too. All over one stupid, stupid mistake!" Again, she began to cry.

Madam Pomfrey inhaled deeply. "Well," she told her slowly, "if you'd like, I can go with you to tell your parents. I'll refrain from mentioning this to the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall, at least until your parents have been apprised of the situation." She held up her hand to halt the girl's words. "That's the best I can do."

Her answer was a sniffle and a miserable nod.

"All right, then," Poppy answered briskly. "I'll send a note excusing you from classes for the rest of the week, and I'll arrange for us to meet with your parents this Friday."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Lily Evans whispered.

SPACER - SCENE CHANGE

When Poppy Pomfrey pulled her face out of the pensieve, she was shaking and dripping with sweat. She dropped onto her bed and covered her face with her hands. Now was not the time to spring this on them. But what choice did she have? It was quite possible that the truth had literally come home, and she had to make it right. But she couldn't deal with this alone! She had to have help.

Normally, she would take problems like this to the Headmaster, but she'd missed that opportunity by about two decades. "Thestral-feathers!" she muttered to herself. With calm professional speed, she replaced both memories in the bottle. Carefully, she returned the pensieve to its proper place, dropped the bottle in her voluminous pocket, and marched out the door.

"Madam Pomfrey," Hermione whisper-called as the older woman came into the Minerva's rooms. "Are you alone? I've got some wonderful news!"

"If I weren't, you'd be in quite a fix, wouldn't you? I thought you were smart enough to stay hidden!" she snapped. "Oh, I'm sorry, girl, I'm just on edge." Her smiling face was betrayed by the wringing of her hands. "What is it you'd like to share?"

"Oh, it's just that I've gotten the results of my NEWTS," she replied. Hermione bounced on her toes in excitement. "Dr. Griselda Marchbanks - she's an old friend of Professor Dumbledore - said that my scores were the highest she's seen since the late 1970's! Isn't that wonderful? Of course, she wanted to know whose scores they were, but Dumbledore-"

"Miss Granger," Poppy interrupted her, "that is wonderful, indeed. High praise, yes. Have you seen Minerva?"

"Oh, she went-" Hermione paused, and her eyes narrowed. "I've been rambling again, haven't I? I'm sorry. You're clearly upset. Is there anything I can help with?"

"Minerva," Poppy reminded her. "I need to see Min immediately."

"She left to take Severus' apprentice his new quarters," she replied slowly. "Is there a problem with Professor Harper?"

Poppy's eyes widened just a fraction, and her face paled. "No, of course not. Where did you get that silly idea?" Her voice was tight and worried.

"Forgive me, Poppy," Hermione answered gently, "but I don't entirely believe you." She reached out to take Poppy's sleeve. "He isn't a Death Eater, is he?"

"Ridiculous!" Poppy cried. "The young man is fresh from America! How could he possibly be a Death Eater?"

Hermione nodded slowly and released Poppy's arm. "All right, Minerva should be back in a few minutes," she said softly. "I'll be working on the horcrux problem in Professor Dumbledore's private library."

When the younger witch left, Poppy's began pacing nervously around the room. Her heels clacked eight times to the west, turn, then eight times more to the east. Back and forward, her pacing went in a steady staccato rhythm until twenty minutes later when the door opened admitting Minerva.

"Poppy," she said with a grin, "what a pleasant surprise." She took off her pointed hat and set it on an occasional table. "What brings you here? As if I didn't know! That young American chap, my, my, what a handsome boy!" She chuckled and pinned back a stray lock of hair. "I hope Aurora and Septima don't get their knickers in a twist over him. It will be bad enough when the students get a good look at him. It's good that he'll have Severus as a mentor. That will keep most of the ardent crushes at bay." She plopped onto her sofa. "Whew! What a day! It's utterly amazing, though, isn't it how much that boy favors-"

"Minerva, shut your damn mouth for a moment, will you!" cried Poppy.

"What?" Minerva bolted to her feet. She planted her hands on her hips. "Poppy Pomfrey, what is your problem?"

"I'm not sure what you'd call it, Min," Poppy replied, her voice shaking, "but it's a big one."

SPACER - SCENE CHANGE

Anxiously, Dumbledore stood up to meet his spy. "You are unharmed?"

"I am well," Severus answered with a sigh.

"Good," the older wizard said. He came around the desk and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, turning him towards his personal library behind the office. "And what did Tom want?"

Hermione met them both at the door. She handed them a glass of amber colored liquid. "I heard you talking," she confessed with a slight smile, "and thought you might need this."

"Thank you, Hermione," he sipped the liquid gratefully. "The Dark Lord wants me to kill you."

"No!" Hermione gasped. "This isn't remotely funny, sir," she chided Dumbledore as he chuckled into his drink.

"Oh, my dear, don't fret so," Dumbledore told her. He patted her on the shoulder, and then he sat, indicating that they do the same. He sipped at the drink. "I had hoped the two of you would be able to brew a curative for this hand, but as that has not been the case, Tom's plan has merit to it."

"Professor Dumbledore! How could you? This, this is ridiculous!"

"Not at all, Miss Granger," he returned. Gesturing to Severus with his glass, he added, "If Severus can ease the death of an old man and ingratiate himself with Tom at the same time, why not?"

"It frightens me how much your mind and his work alike," Severus said. "Yes, that's his plan. He wants me to kill you, so that I can become Headmaster. That would give him control of Hogwarts."

"Which is exactly where you'll need to be in order to protect the children," Dumbledore agreed.

"Well, I won't kill you," Snape declared, "although there are times, like now, when I think I'd quite enjoy it!"

"You will do what needs to be done." Dumbledore laughed. "Of course, I'm holding out hope that you two along with this young American will be able to do something for me. Did you see him, Miss Granger?" He glanced at Snape. "The boy looks amazingly like you, Severus. I can't wait to get the two of you side by side."

Snape set his glass down hard. "As for _that_ matter," he spat, "we've yet to settle what's to be done there, and while we're on the topic -"

SPACER - SCENE CHANGE

Poppy Pomfrey was worried sick. "Are you sure the book is in Dumbledore's desk? You used to keep it in your office."

An angry Minerva McGonagall glared at her friend. "I know exactly where that book is," she informed Poppy. "You're just damned lucky Albus is meeting with Potter tonight, so we can use his office without his knowing."

"Min, I really do appreciate your help," Poppy said. "I've never done anything like this before or after."

"I can't _believe_ you did it at all!" she hissed as she flipped through the pages of the book containing the names of magical children. "Poppy, we have rules in place for _reasons_!" She viciously shoved back the wayward lock of hair.

"I know, I know, I know, Minerva," Poppy cried with nervous apprehension. "I just - Oh, hell, I don't know what I was thinking!"

"You weren't! That's the problem!"

"Like you never broke a rule in your life," Poppy retorted angrily. "I seem to recall when you first started teaching there were several young men that-"

"All right, Poppy, you've made your point," Minerva complained. "Here we are, September 30, 1976." Quickly, she ran her finger down the yellowed page. "Found it! Poppy, it's all here just as you said." She shot a glare at her friend.

"Get on with it, Min!"

McGonagall returned her attention to the book. "It was a closed adoption case handled by - Damn it! Poppy Pomfrey! Why did you have to go and get Robert involved in this?"

"He volunteered," Poppy whined. "Minerva, you know he would do any-"

"Alright!" she shouted, then lowered her voice and continued reading. "Sweet stars, Poppy! It _is_ him!" She slammed the book shut and locked it back in Dumbledore's desk.

"What are we going to do?" Poppy asked, her voice breaking.

" _We_?" Minerva yelled the question. " _We_ aren't going to do anything. _You_ , on the other hand, are going to tell Severus."

"I can't! He won't understand! It'll kill him to know!" she shouted back.

"You can, you must, and you will," Minerva declared vehemently. She clutched Poppy by the elbows. "Yes, he'll be hurt and angry and devastated, but he has a right to know. Oh, Poppy, Severus had a right to know then, and he has a right to know now."

"I have the right to know what?" a hard and angry voice demanded.


	16. Chapter 16

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 16**

The two women looked up to see Albus Dumbledore, Hermione Granger, and a very, very angry Severus Snape in the doorway. Minerva pinched her lips together and elbowed Poppy hard in the ribs.

"What is it that I should know?" Severus Snape demanded again. His voice was low and suspicious.

"Now, Severus," Poppy said, "I don't think tonight is the right time. Let's just wait until tomorrow, and then-"

"Now!" he hissed angrily as he advanced on her.

"Let's sit down, then," she said. She was trying to keep up a brave front, but it was rapidly collapsing under his angry gaze. "It's a long story, and you're not going to like it, I'm afraid." She closed her eyes, unaware that everyone had gathered around her. "Oh, Severus, this isn't what I meant to happen."

"Get on with it," he ordered brusquely. He tossed back the remainder of his drink with shaking hands. "Get the bottle, Hermione," he barked at her.

"There was once a student," Poppy began, "a special student, who found herself in trouble."

"Poppy, this isn't a fairy tale. Don't drag it out," Minerva urged her. "A situation like this is best handled quickly."

She shot an angry glare at her friend and continued. "In the early spring of 1976, a young lady came to me in distress. She was with child, and instead of having her dismissed from Hogwarts, I-" She bit her lip and paused a moment. "I helped her hide her pregnancy, so she could continue her schooling."

"Poppy Pomfrey!" Albus Dumbledore cried. "You know the rules of our school are in place for a reason." He wheeled to face Minerva. "Were you aware of this situation?"

"At the time, no," she answered him in clipped, angry tones. "Nor was I aware that my own brother was instrumental in finding adoptive parents for the child."

"And what," Snape drawled dangerously, "has this to do with me?"

"The student was Lily Evans."

He blanched and staggered, clutching at the back of a chair to keep from falling. Dumbledore caught him by one arm and Hermione caught the other one. Together they helped him to sit.

"That's Harry's mum, wasn't it?" Hermione asked softly. "Here, Severus," she said as she refilled his glass. Without another word, she filled glasses for everyone including herself.

Severus sat down and tried his best to pretend to be unaffected by the news. "One Potter brat or two," Severus sneered, "what difference does it make to me?" He took at long drink from the glass, his shaking hands spilling some of the contents on his trousers.

"I, I, I'm afraid that's not all, Severus," Poppy replied meekly, her words choking off. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old-fashioned baby bottle. "This contains a combination of my memories, Robert McGonagall's, and hers," she explained as tears slid from her blue eyes. "I think it would be best to see for yourself, Severus."

Albus flicked his wand summoning the beautiful, antique pensieve. "Would you like someone to journey with you, Severus?" he asked gently. "I don't believe this is a journey a man should take alone. You need friends with you."

Snape was ashen. Fear peeped out from behind his eyes. He nodded vaguely. "I have no friends," he muttered.

"Yes, you do!" Hermione insisted.

"You have us," Minerva argued. "You'll always have us."

Poppy, tears streaming down her face, urged, "Please, Severus, don't go alone. At least take Albus, another man, with you."

Feigning the courage he lacked, Severus shrugged. "It matters not to me in the least." His pallid face betrayed his sarcastic words. "By all means, let's all take this happy trip down memory lane together."

"I'll wait here," Poppy declared. "I've been there once, and I can't do it again."

Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "Slytherins aren't known for their courage, Poppy, so I'll excuse you, but when I return-"

"I know!" Her words rushed out. "And I'll deserve it!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Snape asked, and together the others dove into the pensieve.

 **Friday, February 13, 1976**

Poppy Pomfrey smoothed out her knee length navy blue skirt for the tenth time in as many minutes. She had never felt comfortable in Muggle clothing, but for this trip it was quite necessary. As nervous as she was in the unfamiliar clothing, she noted that her young companion looked far worse. "Miss Evans, do sit up and at least pretend that it isn't the end of the world," she suggested. "Your mother will no doubt be upset, but she is unlikely to cause a scene in a public restaurant."

"She'll kill me," Lily moaned morosely, straightening her posture. She reached across the table and snatched a paper napkin from the holder, dabbing at her reddened eyes.

"Well, she won't do it in front of witnesses, I can assure you." Poppy sighed, then, and she took pity on the young woman. "This isn't the first time I've had this discussion with parents," she assured the young girl. "I'll handle most of the conversation."

"Thank you," Lily whispered. "Oh, here she is." She waved her hand towards the door, calling out, "Mum, we're over here."

Iris Evans smiled and returned her daughter's wave. Her low heels clacked across the floor as she moved towards the table. Seating herself, she reached a friendly hand out to Poppy. "My husband wasn't able to leave work. There's to be a shake up at the mill today." She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid several men will be losing their jobs," she explained. "It'll just be myself today. I hope that's all right."

As the older women shook hands, Lily poured the tea, handing one cup to her mother and another to Madam Pomfrey. "Thank Merlin for that," the girl muttered.

"What was that, dear?" Iris asked. She took a quick sip of the steaming drink and set it down with a clink.

"Mrs. Evans, I'm Madam Pomfrey, the school Matron," Poppy introduced herself. "I'm here to explain your daughter's options."

"Like future planning? After Lily's bird exams?" Iris questioned. She nodded to herself. "Ernest and I thought this meeting was something along that line. Lily, dear, would you hand me one of those ginger biscuits?"

Poppy sipped her tea and smiled. "Something along those lines, yes. Fifth years at Hogwarts usually take the O.W.L. exams, which determine their future educational pathway."

Iris nodded pleasantly as she chewed the biscuit and gave her youngest daughter a fond pat on the shoulder. "Lily has told us something about it," Mrs. Evans said with a proud smile. "After these owl exams, she will continue for another two years, take her finals, graduate, and, hopefully, go on to university."

"Yes, that would be ideal, especially as your daughter has expressed a desire to go into healing," Poppy hedged. "However, there are occasions when a student is asked to leave the school early."

"You mean should Lily do poorly on her exams?" Mrs. Evans asked.

"A poor performance on the O.W.L. exams is one reason why a young woman may be asked to leave school," Poppy replied. "However, occasionally, certain circumstances arise which could cause a young woman to leave unexpectedly." Pomfrey stopped to take a long sip of her tea. She carefully watched the effect of her words on the mother.

"Oh, I'm sure that won't be an issue at all," Mrs. Evans said with a huge smile. "Lily has always achieved good marks." She reached an arm around her daughter and hugged her. "Her father and I are so proud of her. She's never disappointed us."

Lily burst into tears and dropped her face. Madam Pomfrey reached discretely across the table and shoved more paper napkins into her hands.

"Lily? Lily!" Iris Evan cried out. She spilled her tea on the table in her haste to set down the cup. Taking her weeping daughter by both shoulders, she tried to console the girl. "Lily, dear, what in the world is wrong? What? Lily, sweetheart, I can't understand a word. Look at me, and tell me what is wrong."

Lily's green eyes, red rimmed and swollen, slowly crept up to meet her mother's worried ones. "Mum," she whispered, her voice quavering, "I'm pregnant."

Iris Evans froze for a moment. She cocked her chin cross the table at Madam Pomfrey and risked a quick glance at the strange witch. Then, she inhaled deeply twice. "What," she asked softly, "what did you say to me, Lily?"


	17. Chapter 17

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

This chapter is posted for Azael-Ruthven. Lol!

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 17**

 **Friday, February 13, 1976**

Swallowing hard, Lily straightened her back and looked her mother squarely in the eye. "I'm going to have a baby, Mum," she said bluntly. "I'm sorry. I know you're disappointed and -"

"Stop right there, Lily Annette," Iris hissed, her eyes green eyes burning with rage. "Are you telling me that you have thrown away your schooling, your future, your, your life for a boy?" She clamped her hands around her daughter's shoulders hard enough to bruise and gave the girl a shake.

"Mum," Lily cried quietly, "you're hurting me."

Instantly, Iris let go. She clasped her shaking hands together in her lap. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly in barely controlled fury. "Someone," she growled, glaring at her daughter and then at the woman across the table, "had better start explaining. Now!"

Poppy stepped into the conversation at this moment, knowing it would give the two women time to regain control. "As we were saying, Mrs. Evans," she said softly,"While Lily's academic prospects are very good- "

An angry snort and furious glare came from the mother. "Were, you mean," Mrs. Evans exploded. "I can't _believe_ you'd go and do something so stupid, Lily! We didn't raise you to-" She broke off, grinding her teeth and taking a moment to master her anger. "Madam Pomfrey, is there any way that Lily can stay in school?" Again she turned to her daughter. "Lily, I just can't bear the thought of you jeopardizing your future this way."

"I don't want to leave school either," Lily insisted. "I want to become a nurse." She let slip a rueful half-smile.

"Oh, Lily, dear," her mother said, tears clouding her voice and eyes, "your father and I always dreamed of your having a career like that, but now-" She broke off, shaking her head sadly.

"Mrs. Evans," Poppy interrupted, "yes, Lily has made a colossal mistake, but together, I think, we can improve the situation." She poured all three of them another cup of tea, allowing her words to sink in.

"How?" Iris asked softly. Her anger was now giving way to hurt and tears. "My husband is taking a cut in pay. We're helping to support my oldest daughter who is in her first year at a business school in London. And my youngest daughter is about to be thrown out of school because she's in the family way!"

"Well," Poppy stated slowly, taking time to actually pushing the tea cups into their hands, "the first thing to do is decide whether or not Lily should actually have the child. She's still early on in the pregnancy, and she could-"

"No!"

"Absolutely not!

"All right, that's one decision made," Poppy said briskly. "Although she will have to leave Hogwarts, perhaps you could find a Muggle school which accepts young mothers-to-be? I'll be happy to write her a reference." She paused, taking a sip of her own tea. "I won't lie to you, Mrs. Evans," Poppy declared. "Lily's academic prospects in the magical world are exceedingly poor at this point." She folded her hands atop the table. "Of course, the situation may improve once the father knows."

"Yes," Iris Evans agreed. "Much will depend on who he is."

Lily blinked and shot a quick look at her mother. "W-what do you mean?" she asked. "Why would it matter who the father is?"

Madam Pomfrey raised both eyebrows in shock. "It matters a great deal! Is the child's father willing to marry you? Is he or his family able to support you until after the child is born? Although you won't be able to attend Hogwarts in your condition, after the birth, if you're able to arrange child care, you may be able to obtain an apprenticeship or employment."

Her face blanched. "He'd be willing to do anything for me, especially now," she said bluntly, "but I don't want to marry him." She turned to her mother and grasped her arm. "Mum, it was a huge mistake. He loves me desperately, and I thought that if we, you know, then I might could feel the same way about him, but it didn't change how I feel about him. I mean, I care about him as a person, but I don't love him. I mean, I love him as a friend but that's all. I don't want to marry him. Please, mum, don't make me marry him."

Iris closed her eyes for a long, long moment. When she opened them, they held a defeated look of resignation. She shook her head. "Lily," she demanded quietly, "who is the father?"

Lily bit her bottom lip. "Mum, it can't really matter, can it? I mean, if I don't plan to keep the baby myself. Can't I have the baby and give it up for adoption?"

"If you find yourself unable or unwilling to care for a child, adoption is a perfect choice," Madam Pomfrey spoke up earnestly. "Of course, the decision is entirely up to you, but there are many, many couples - Muggle and Magical - who are unable to have a child of their own and are desperate to adopt. If you don't think you could raise this child yourself, I would urge you to consider this option."

Iris nodded in agreement. "Lily, I truly think this would be for the best, especially if you refuse to marry the boy." When Lily nodded sadly, her mother continued. "You will have to tell him, though. Not only is it the right thing to do, but his family might be more financially stable than we are. They may want to raise their grandchild. Or they may know of someone who would want to adopt. Who is he, Lily?"

"Sev," Lily barely whispered.

"Severus Snape?" Iris exploded, her eyes flashing. "Lily Annette," she growled through clenched teeth, "you couldn't have picked a worse one!"

"Mum!" Lily wailed, "I thought you liked Sev."

"I do," she retorted angrily, "at least I did, but there is no way I'm going to let him trap you like his father trapped his poor mother." She lowered her voice. "And you _know_ what that poor woman goes through when that big bully gets drunk every pay day." She slapped her hand down on the table making the tea things rattle. "There's no way in hell, I'm going to let any daughter of mine get mixed up with that bunch."

"Mum, Sev isn't that way," she whispered. "He hates how his father is, and he'd never, never hurt me." The tears began again. "He loves me, mum, but I just don't love him the same way. He'll want to marry me, but I just can't."

"Oh, Lily," Iris Evans sighed, "I wish you didn't have to tell him, but you absolutely must." Lily began to cry again, and her mother pulled her roughly against her shoulder and rocked her. "We'll get through this somehow." Together mother and daughter wept.

"Oh, poor Severus," Poppy muttered aloud. "This will be a terrible shock to him. No doubt, though, he'd bear up under it all with dignity, grace, and integrity." She glared at both women. "Make no mistake, either of you, that boy is as honorable as the day is long."

"Oh, I know he is," Lily insisted, "and I did try to love him back like he loves me, but-"

Mrs. Evans interrupted, "I don't blame Severus, not really, Madam Pomfrey. And, I do like the boy. He can't help his upbringing." She sighed and shot an angry look at Lily. "I know my daughter and her rebellious streak. I don't doubt this was mainly her fault, but she can't be blamed for not returning Severus' feelings."

"Which is both a shame and a blessing, I suppose," Poppy said softly. She wet her lips nervously and pushed the tray of biscuits closer to the Evanses. "Eat a biscuit, Miss Evans," she said. "You'll need your strength." She waited until both mother and daughter were chewing before she continued.

"As I've told you, pregnant young women are not allowed at Hogwarts, but under the circumstances- " She broke off and shifted in her chair, trying to find the correct words. _If it were any other boy_ , she thought. _Poor Severus! I've seen the bruises on him, the welts, and now this with Lily. And she is his only real friend. I can't bear the thought of what this will do to the poor boy_. "In this case, I would be willing to help Lily conceal her pregnancy for the rest of the school year provided that she excels on her O.W.L. exams."

"You will? Oh, thank you! Thank you!" Lily exclaimed eagerly.

"It's strictly against school policy," Poppy snapped, "and I'd likely lose my job if I were caught. If you dare breathe a word, I'd have no choice but to-"

"Lily won't utter a single word, will you, Lily?"

"Not a single word!"

"All right," Madam Pomfrey agreed, "when you return after the Easter holidays, you'll drop a couple of classes - the non-essentials -"

Lily nodded eagerly. "Like Divination and Ancient Runes."

"Yes, and I'll insist that you enter my class for healer trainees," Poppy added. "I've been after the Headmaster for years to allow me to begin such a class."

"Oh, thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Iris said. Tears of relief flooded her eyes.

"That will only get her through this year, Mrs. Evans," Poppy replied. "I've no idea what's to be done for the first month of school next year."

Mrs. Evans, who looked as if she'd aged ten years in the last ten minutes, shook her head, a grim line drawn across her mouth. "Madam Pomfrey, is there any way of knowing whether or not the-" She paused and swallowed hard. "-whether or not the baby will have magic?" she asked softly.

"I'm afraid not," Poppy replied. "Generally, a child will start showing magical ability some time before his seventh birthday." She reached for another biscuit, crumbling it into bits on her plate. "However," she added, lowering her voice, "there is an enchanted book in Professor McGonagall's office. It gives the Deputy Headmistress a list of all magical children, so she can send their official Hogwarts acceptance letters."

Iris Evans frowned slightly. "How does it work?"

"Every time a magical child is born in the United Kingdom, the book records the child's name, parents, and address, and it updates itself through the years." She smiled as she explained. "Each year our Deputy Headmistress opens the book to the eleventh page, where she finds a comprehensive list of all magical children who were born exactly eleven years prior."

"So, all Professor McGonagall has to do is write down the names of those students who are old enough and send them a letter of acceptance," Lily supplied. "That's really interesting, but I don't know how that can help."

"Well," Poppy said, "if I know when the child is born, I could sneak into her office and check the book to see if the name was written there."

"That's a perfect idea," Iris said. "If the child has no magic, there can be a simple adoption, but if it has magic-"

"Then you'd have to be very careful about who adopted the child," Pomfrey said. "It would be best, in that case, to have the child adopted outside of the UK."

"Why?" Lily asked.

"Because," Pomfrey replied, "if the child is magical and remains in the UK, Professor McGonagall will eventually know all about this. She'll also know where the child lives, his adopted parents, and his true parentage."

"In which case," Iris Evans added, "Madam Pomfrey will be sacked for the help she's giving you now. We won't do that to her." She sighed. "I have no idea, though, how we're to keep this from your father and sister over the summer."

"In for a penny, in for a pound," muttered Poppy. "Lily, can stay with me this summer." She sighed. "I generally spend my summers working part-time at Glangwili Magical Hospital in Carmarthen, Wales. It helps me keep up my nursing license. I have a small flat in town. We'll say that Lily is still working on her apprenticeship. She can stay there through the end of September when the baby is born, but you'll have to think of a reason to explain that."

"You will? I can?" Lily exclaimed. "Oh, Madam Pomfrey, how can I ever thank you?"

"Stop right there, Miss Evans," Poppy warned. "This isn't an easy way out for you, you know. Your grades must be impeccable, and your behavior must be unimpeachable. If you are going to apprentice in nursing-"

"I understand," Lily said, soberly. "And, I swear I won't let you down."

Iris Evans reached across the table and squeezed Poppy's hands. "Madam Pomfrey, if you would do that-"

"I'm doing this as much for poor Severus as for your daughter," Poppy said with a sigh. "There's no need to ruin two young lives because of one mistake."

"I agree," Iris replied. "I'll tell my husband and the school that Lily and I are tending an elderly aunt of mine."

The three women stood and silently made their way to the register, paid their separate checks, and left the restaurant. Once they were outside, Poppy turned. "Mrs. Evans," she began.

"Call me Iris," the other woman said.

Poppy smiled. "Then I'm Poppy." She glanced at Lily and then back at Iris. "Lily and I will meet you here the day after school lets out. I'll take you both to my flat, so you'll know where you can get in touch with Lily."

"Thank you," Iris repeated. "In the mean time, I'll be checking into adoption agencies here in London."

Poppy nodded sadly. "And, I'll be checking into Magical adoption agencies."

"Good-bye, Madam Pomfrey," Lily called softly. "And thank you. I'll start studying now."


	18. Chapter 18

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 18**

 **June 1976**

"Hey, Lily," called Alice, "where are you going? I thought we were going to have a pajama party in the dorm tonight now that the O.W.L's are over."

"Yeah," shouted Mary, "remember? We were going to have a big paint party, and even Sprout and Pomfrey are coming."

Emmeline Vance grinned and added, "I've found a really great book of charms to color hair and nails."

"And Madam Pince has agreed to let us give her a make-over," Alice squealed. "C'mon, Lily, we need to get it all set up."

Lily grimaced. "I don't really feel like it, guys," Lily said. "Anyway, I have an errand to run."

"What errand?" Emmeline whined. "You aren't going to ditch us again, are you?"

"I just need to speak with Severus before we leave for the year," Lily told them.

Alice grinned. "Lily's got a boyfriend! Lily and Sevie sitting in tree," she shouted in a sing-song voice, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Lily sighed with irritation. "I do not have a boyfriend. I don't have time for a boyfriend," she hissed. "I shouldn't have to explain myself to my so-called friends!"

Mary frowned. "What the hell is wrong with you, Lily?" she demanded of her best friend. "Ever since Easter, you've been acting all bitchy. You don't hang out with us anymore. You barely even speak to us!" Hands on her hips, she marched up to Lily. "And don't give me any crap about working for Pomfrey."

"Mary MacDonald!" Poppy Pomfrey exclaimed. "Since when is a career in healing considered crap? Hmmm?" Madam Pomfrey, who'd apparently heard the whole conversation, stood with her hands on her hips. "And you Miss Alice Carroll and Miss Emmeline Vance, how dare you tease a schoolmate who is working so hard at her studies? Hmmm? Get along with you now. Miss Evans will be with you as soon as she finishes her chore."

Lily reached out and took Madam Pomfrey's hands, squeezing them. "Thank, you, Poppy," she whispered. "I appreciate it."

The school Matron smile. "Just hurry and tell Severus. You've put it off far too long," she whispered. "Then come let me know what he's said. I'll handle the rest from there."

Lily's mind was in turmoil. The last day of school was nearing, the end of her fifth year. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey, concealing charms, and the new fashionable maxi-ruffle dress, she had been able to hide her pregnancy and finish out the year.

She'd taken her O.W.L.'s already and knew without a doubt that she'd done well. Tomorrow, she and Madam Pomfrey would meet her mother, and she would move to Wales for the summer. Now, all she had left to do was to find Severus and tell him. She wasn't looking forward to that conversation at all.

She had put it off for as long as she could. Between her mother's thousands of letters and Madam Pomfrey's constant reminders, the two women had nagged her incessantly about it for the past four months. She'd used up all her excuses, and she wouldn't be seeing him until sometime in October after the baby was born, so it was today. She cringed just imagining how this conversation was going to go.

As she neared the hill, she heard a commotion. It was the so-called Marauders again. They were so juvenile, so arrogant, so annoying. She stopped, puffing for air. Heavily pregnant, she was finding it harder and harder to catch her breath. Damn! They were harassing Severus again. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Yes, he gave as good as he got - better sometimes - but they started it. They always started trouble.

Lifting her overly large robe and maxi dress to ankle height, she waddled up the hill as fast as she could. Rounding the hill, she saw exactly what she had been expecting. James the Jerk Potter and Sirius the Arsehole Black were attacking Severus. As usual there was Remus the Lump Lupin standing idly by - not help but not stopping them either. And, of course, there was that slimy Pettigrew giggling so hard drool was oozing out of his mouth

Pushing through the gang of idiots watching and laughing, Lily marched up to Potter. Pausing only long enough to catch her breath, she shouted, " _Leave him ALONE!"_

Immediately, James Potter froze. His hateful tone of voice changed to silky smoothness _. "All right, Evans?"_

 _"Leave him alone,"_ Lily yelled louder. Her eyes bore holes into Potter. _"What's he done to you?"_

James couldn't resist. _"Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean ..."_

This time the laughter of the crowd seemed to strike a sympathetic chord in Lupin, and he backed to the edge of the crowd and turned, leaving in shame.

Incensed, Lily growled, _"You think you're funny. But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."_

 _"I will if you go out with me, Evans. Go on ... go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."_

"Are you such a loser that you have to resort to blackmail to get a date?" Lily's voice dripped venom. _"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid."_ She took several steps forward, her green eyes flashing fire.

 _"Bad luck, Prongs,"_ laughed Sirius. Glancing at Severus, he saw that the jinx had worn off, and Snape had his wand at the ready _. "Oi!"_ Sirius shouted, but his warning came too late.

With a flick of his wand, Severus sent a slicing hex and cut James Potter's face. With his Seeker's reflexes, Potter retaliated, and instantly Snape flew upward until he hung upside-down in the air. The surrounding mob cheered and laughed at the struggling Slytherin.

Lily smiled for a microsecond before catching herself. She frowned harshly and yelled again _, "Let him down!"_

" _Certainly_ ," James replied smugly. "Whatever the lady wants." As if some giant had snipped a thread, the curse was released, and Snape slammed to the ground with a thud.

Sirius shot a quick body-bind curse at Snape, keeping the boy trapped and at their mercy.

"Enough is enough!" shouted Lily. Livid, she reached into her sleeve and pulled out her own wand _. "Leave him alone!"_ The crowd, knowing better than to goad Lily's temper, backed away a few steps, Pettigrew leading the retreat.

 _James earnestly pleaded, "Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you."_

 _"Take the curse off him, then."_

With a sigh of surrender, James nodded and lifted the curse. He couldn't let things go so easily, though. He had to get in once last jab at the defenseless Slytherin. _"You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus."_

Pushed far beyond the boundaries of teenage humiliation and pain, Severus snapped. _"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"_

Shocked to the core, Lily froze. She'd never, ever heard Sev use such language. And most certainly she never expected those words to be directed at her. It cut her to the quick. Her left hand paused automatically over the child that she carried. His child. His Death Eater friends had finally brain-washed him. Well, she wanted no part of that. She'd warned him over and over. Fighting back her tears, she stuck her nose in the air. _"Fine. I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."_

James, shocked and furious on her behalf, coldly yelled, "How dare you, Snivellus! Apologize! Now!"

 _"I don't want you to make him apologise!" she shouted. "You're as bad as he is!"_

 _"What? I'd NEVER call you a — you-know-what!"_

 _"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can — I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."_

Abruptly, Lily wheeled around and stormed back to the castle, ignoring James and everything around her as her tears fell.

"For the last time, go away!" Mary snarled. "Lily does not want to talk to you."

"Please," Snape requested humbly, and his velvety voice broke, "just ask her to see me. Tell her I'm not leaving until she does." He folded his arms across his chest. "I'll sleep out here if I have to."

Mary arched an eyebrow and shook her head in disbelief. "Um, hmm," she muttered. Shifting her stance, she placed her hands on her hips. "Listen, Snape, you hurt my friend deeply and - "

"I know I did, McDonald," he interrupted her. "And I'm sorrier than I can ever say. All I want is the chance to apologize." His voice was soft and his words sincere as he spread his arms wide in supplication. "I just want one chance."

Mary frowned. He sounded contrite alright. She felt kind of sorry for the poor schmuck in a way. "I can't promise anything," she told him, "but I'll tell her what you said." Turning her back on the boy, she entered Gryffindor tower, walked through the common room and on into the girls' dorm.

"Lily," she shouted over the pandemonium, "I need to see you."

Lily, sitting quietly in the back of the room, was watching Emmeline Vance cast dye charms on Madam Pince's hair. She twisted her head away from the new platinum blond librarian to find her best friend waving at her from the doorway. Hefting herself from the bed, she made her way over to Mary.

"What is it?" Lily asked quietly.

"Look, Lily," Mary said, "old Sevvie is hanging around outside the Fat Lady's portrait. Oh, don't roll your eyes at me! Listen, he insists on seeing you."

"Well, I don't want to see him!" she hissed.

"I know, I know. But he claims he wants to apologize, and he says he isn't leaving until he talks to you."

"Apologize?" She turned away. "Oh, it's far too late for that."

Mary took her friend by the arm and turned her around. "Look, I know it's not my business, but I'm your friend, so I'm going to butt in anyway." She grinned. "Go see the prat. Listen to him. Forgive him or not - I don't care." She lowered her voice. "Just get it over with, okay? Then you can move on with or without him."

"You're right, Mary," Lily agreed with a soul weary sigh. "It's time to cut all ties with Severus Snape."

Mary shrugged. "Like, I said, Lily, that's up to you, but you ought to do it before the boys get back from playing quidditch, or they'll kill him."


	19. Chapter 19

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 19**

 **September 30, 1976**

"It's late September, and I really should be back at school," Rod Stewart crooned over the radio.

"Just shut it!" shouted Lily. She slapped the radio off as she struggled to sit up in bed.

"Now, Lily," Iris chided her daughter, "there's no need to take it out on the poor radio." She walked into the bedroom and set a tray across her daughter's flaccid lap.

Tears started welling up in her eyes. "Oh, mum," Lily said with a sniffle, "I'm sorry. It's just - just - well, everything."

"I know, dear," Mrs. Evans replied gently. "But don't you worry. I've taken care of it all. The midwife has been paid and has left. The baby is healthy, and I've sent that owl to Poppy. You need to eat so that-" A lusty howl interrupted Iris Evans. "That would be someone else who is hungry. I'll give him his bottle." The new grandmother turned to go.

"Mum," Lily said gently, "you've gone through so much for me. You've lied to dad and Tuney. You've lived here in a stranger's home for the last month, and worked like a dog in a factory to support us. You've done all this without a single complaint and all because I've been an utter arse. I just don't know how you did it."

Iris turned to face her daughter, ignoring momentarily the cries of the infant. She smiled ruefully. "One day, Lily darling," she answered lovingly, "when you're older and ready to be a mother, you'll have another child - maybe another strong son or a lovely daughter - and then you'll understand. A mother's love is stronger than anything." She swallowed back the threatening tears, and left the room, shutting the door so that Lily could eat in peace.

Moving quickly into the kitchen, Iris prepared a bottle and headed towards the crying baby. "All right, now," she said as she picked up the baby. "Here, now, here's your lunch. Yes, hush now, little one." Settling herself and the baby onto the sofa, she gazed intently at the suckling baby. "What a pity we can't keep you," she whispered through her tears. "A handsome fellow like yourself, yes," she crooned. "Thick black hair and dark, dark eyes. You look like your father, you do."

Having finished the bottle, the infant opened his mouth and yawned. Iris set the bottle aside, and lifted him to her shoulder. "I can't believe how easily I'm remembering what to do," she laughed softly at herself. Patting the tiny back and jiggling him a little, she was rewarded when the boy burped. "I suppose it's like riding a bicycle. You never really forget once you learn, now do you?"

"Oh," she whispered, and she kissed his baby soft cheek. "I just wish-" Breaking off abruptly, she lay the baby back in his cradle, tucking him in tenderly. "No, no time for that," she muttered to herself harshly.

"Mum," Lily called out.

Sighing loudly and dashing away the traitor tears, Iris returned briskly to the bedroom. "Yes?" she asked as she pushed open the door. "Are you done with lunch?"

Lily nodded, and her mother picked up the tray. "Mum," she asked timidly, "do you think I should hold the baby?"

"Halloo in the house?" a Scottish brogue, a man's voice, called out.

Iris Evans jumped and wheeled around. She charged out of the bedroom, Lily's tray in hand. Dipping quickly into the kitchen, she shoved the tray on the counter, grabbed the broom, and dashed to the front door holding the broom before her like a cricket bat.

"Who're you?" she demanded. The broom, held high over her shoulder, threatening the tall stranger in the dark blue suit.

Slowly, the man settled his leather briefcase on the floor near his shiny navy blue dress shoes. The man straightened up to a full six feet tall and smiled, showing dimples on either side of his perfect white teeth. His black wavy hair, conservatively cut, was parted on the left and smoothed down. Nodding, he slowly reached into the left pocket of his double-breast breasted suit jacket and removed a card.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Evans," he said is a soft, slow voice. He presented a dark blue card embossed with his name and an eagle in silver. "My name is Robert McGonagall. I hold legal licenses in both the Magical and Muggle worlds. Poppy Pomfrey sent me." He took a small step forward and shut the door behind him. "I'm here to handle the adoption case."

"Oh, my goodness," Iris sighed, lowered the broom, and took his card. "Robert M. McGonagall, Attorney at Law," she read aloud. "It's all right, Lily, dear," she called out behind her. "It's a friend of Poppy's." Turning back to the tall man, she said, "I'm sorry about the broom, Mr. McGonagall."

Robert grinned as he picked up his briefcase and headed towards the sofa. "Don't think a moment of it," he told her. "I'm quite used to brave women, and besides-" He waved his wand sending the broom away and transfiguring the coffee table into a proper writing desk. "- I was never really in any danger."

"Are you," Lily, leaning against the door framed asked, "P-Professor McGonagall's husband?"

"Lily!" Iris Evans protested. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

Pulling her house robe more tightly around her, Lily stepped boldly into the room and sat on the edge of the sofa furthest from the lawyer.

Barrister McGonagall paused in his setting out of parchments and quills. With narrowed eyes, he frowned and scrutinized the young woman next to him. "And what makes you ask that, lassie?" he asked her, his voice deep with a hint of danger to it.

Lily flinched and blinked, but swiftly recovered her faux poise. Squaring her shoulders and jutting her chin out, she answered cheekily. "Well, you've got the same last name."

He held his frown just a shade longer before grinning. "Gryffindors," he muttered to himself. "No, I'm her brother," he admitted. "And, no, anything that is said here is held under attorney-client privilege. She'll not hear a word." He returned to setting out several parchments.

Lily relaxed against the back of the couch and nodded.

Now that the tense moment had passed, Iris Evans settled into the side chair nearest the cradle. Of its own accord, her right hand reached out and rested on the blue blanket of her grandson. "Will Poppy be joining us?" she asked.

"No, Mrs. Evans," Mr. McGonagall replied. "It is best for her to remain at Hogwarts for this meeting. I'll fill her in on the details later before she returns Sunday to take Miss Evans back to school." He sat down on the sofa. "She has informed me of your wishes to place the baby up for adoption. Is that still your wish?" He directed this last to Lily.

"It's for the best, Mr. McGonagall," Lily replied sharply.

He nodded. "Then we will proceed. According to Poppy's sources, the child is, indeed, magical. Congratulations. He is a healthy child?"

"Yes," Iris replied. "We thought it best, if the child were magical, to have him adopted out of the country."

Robert McGonagall nodded absently. "That's been arranged. The American agency will be in touch shortly." He turned again to face Lily. "Miss Evans, would you like to make this an open or closed adoption?" At her frown of confusion, he explained, "An open adoption allows for open communication between the biological and adoptive parents, whereas a closed one-"

"I want a closed adoption," Lily interrupted forcefully. She exchanged a longing look with her mother, her eyes glancing ever so slightly towards the cradle. "I - I would like to meet the parents, though if that's possible."

"That is easily arranged," he replied with a gentle smile. "In fact -" He sat up and pulled a small square mirror from his right breast pocket. "- I believe this is the agency now. Yes, yes, that would be most acceptable." He spoke into the glass. "Yes, closed. The parents are there? Do bring them. Miss Smith and her mother wish to meet them. You have the port key I sent? Good. We'll be waiting."

Replacing the small mirror, he quickly made a notation on the parchment in front of him before turning to the women. "Because you requested a closed adoption, you will be addressed as Miss and Mrs. Smith. The prospective parents will go by the name of Mr. and Mrs. Jones. However, your correct names will be listed on all legal forms as required by law." Raising his eyebrows at Lily, he suggested, "They should be arriving within the hour. You might wish to look a bit more presentable."

"Thank you, Mr. McGonagall," Iris Evans said. "Lily, dear, he's right. You should get dressed." When Lily left, she shifted on her chair, still stroking the sleeping infant's foot. "What are your fees, Mr. McGonagall? I won't be able to pay you all at once; I'm having to hide this from my husband, you see, but -"

"Nothing, Mrs. Evans," he replied. "Neither you nor your daughter owe me one shilling."

"Oh, no, Mr. McGonagall," Iris insisted. "We don't accept charity, even from a friend. Now, it may take a while for me to pay you in full, but I fully insist that -" She smiled as Lily re-entered the room and sat down. "Mr. McGonagall, Lily and I want to be clear about what we owe you."

The lawyer sat up as he interrupted her. "Mrs. Evans, I tell you that you owe me nothing."

Iris Evans frowned in confusion. "I don't understand," she said. "Why would a lawyer work for nothing?"

McGonagall leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Mrs. Evans, many years ago the girl I loved found herself in the same situation as your daughter. The child wasn't mine, but I offered to marry her just the same. She refused me." He sighed. "That's why I handle these cases pro bono."

"Well, then, I do thank you," she stammered a quick reply.


	20. Chapter 20

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 20**

The doorbell of Poppy Pomfrey's flat rang exactly one hour later. "I'll get the door," Iris stated.

A short, blond woman wearing a fashionable dress and heels stood there smiling. "I'm Edwina Hancock," she explained in her flat American accent. "I'm with the adoption agency. Is this the right house?"

"Yes, I'm Iris, uh, Iris Smith," she said as she stepped back. "Please do come in."

McGonagall stood, tugging his jacket into place, and reached to shake hands with the new arrivals. "Good afternoon," he spoke first. "I'm Robert McGonagall. I represent the Smiths."

"And I'm Julian Powers," a tall skinny man asserted. "I represent Magical Moments Adoption Agency." He flicked his eyes through his rose-tinted glasses at McGonagall's expensive business suit and clean-cut looks, and wrinkled his nose. He reached up to slick back his overly long hair instead of shaking hands. "I'll also be representing the Joneses."

With a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, Robert McGonagall nodded curtly to the man.

"I'm Ambrose, but my friends call me Brody," a deep voice with an unmistakable Southern accent declared. With his dark, gray-streaked, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes, he claimed their undivided attention at once. Tall and broad, the man removed his cowboy hat, holding it down by the side of his blue jeans, before ushering in a petite blond woman with a long braid. "And this here is my wife, Cordelia." He paused to wipe off his brown cowboy boots before ducking his head to enter the flat.

"Robert McGonagall," the barrister repeated with a genuine smile. He reached out to shake hands with the man.

"Well, won't you all come in?" Iris asked, gesturing to the living room. She placed her arm around her daughter's shoulder. "I'm Iris Smith, and this is my daughter Lily."

There was a moment of awkward silence. "It seems we need a little more room," McGonagall said as he swished his wand to enlarge the area. Once everyone was seated, the legalities began.

"Perhaps while we wait on the lawyers, you could tell Miss Smith a little about yourselves," Miss Hancock suggested. "It may ease her mind knowing what kind of people you are."

Cordelia's hands were shaking with nerves as her black lashed, blue eyes watched the lawyers flip through papers. Silently, Brody reached out his large, roughened hands to steady hers. "Delia and I, we have a small farm and potions business out in east Texas," he told them. "We sell produce, fresh eggs, soaps, scents, and homeopathic remedies - that kind of thing. We aren't rich by any means, but we get by."

"We, both of us, are only children, and we've always wanted a large family, but we haven't been blessed," Delia trailed off. She smiled ruefully. "But, now, thanks to you, Miss Smith," Delia whispered, her tears of joy making her voice raspy, "we'll finally be able to have a child of our own."

"Oh, what a coincidence," Mrs. Evans put in. "Lily is very good at potions and gardening. In fact, she does extremely well in all her school subjects."

"Herbology, mum," Lily corrected. She shifted slightly to face the Joneses. Her face was hard, her tone slightly angry. "I do have one important question to ask you. How do you feel about blood purity?" she demanded.

"I'm afraid I don't quite know what you mean, little lady," Brody replied in a clipped manner.

Delia raised her hand to pat his arm. "Miss Smith," she said with a little smile, "I promise you that we harbor no blood prejudice. My husband is what you would call a Muggle. I'm the magical one."

"Oh, is that what you mean?" Brody asked with a laugh. His smile crinkled the corner of his eyes, and they gleamed. "We run into that sort of thinking, but we don't hold with it."

Lily nodded. "I'm sorry if I offended you, but it's just important to me that my son-" Her words cracked with emotion as she paused to glance at the cradle. "-isn't raised to think he's better than Muggles."

"You don't have to worry about that one bit, Miss Lily," Brody stated firmly, setting her mind at rest. "Now, I know that you have your reasons for wanting a closed adoption. We won't ask, and we'll respect your choice absolutely. But, if you should ever change your mind and want to see him, you just come right on."

"You'll always be welcome in our home, Miss Smith," Delia added. "Always."

"I believe our gentlemen are all set," Miss Hancock said with a bright smile. "It's time then. Miss Smith," she addressed Lily, "I must formally ask you if you are, of your own free will, releasing all claims to this child?"

Lily nodded and pushed a long lock of red hair back. "I do."

The agency's lawyer, Mr. Powers, frowned. "Just a moment, please. What about the father and his rights?" Powers asked slowly. "Shouldn't he be here?"

Lily's bottom lip began to quiver, but her eyes blazed with anger. "He's a Death Eater," she declared. "He's made that clear and plain."

"A what? A what?" Powers demanded.

"The Death Eaters," McGonagall, hard faced, explained, "are a group of violent, pure blood supremacists, anarchists, and terrorists. They follow a dark wizard who styles himself as 'Lord Voldemort.' An evil bunch, they are, and make no mistake."

"Lily!" Iris cried out. "How did S- " She corrected her slip. "How did the father get mixed up in that lot?"

"A long story, Mum," Lily said.

"Surely, they can't be that bad," Powers sniffed.

McGonagall, his eyes like green fire, fixed a hard, glare on the man. "My description of them came from the man who put an end to Gellert Grindelwald," he declared, thumping his fist on the table. "Are you doubting the word of Albus Dumbledore?"

Powers sat up, sputtering. "D-d-d-did you say Albus Dumbledore? _The_ Albus Dumbledore?"

"So, what you're saying is that the father of this baby is some evil sumbitch?" Brody growled.

"Ambrose Royce! Watch your mouth!" Delia smacked him across the ribs. "Don't worry, dear," she told Lily. "We'll make sure the little one is safe and never mixes up in that bunch."

"My apologies, ladies," Brody muttered sheepishly.

Powers spoke quickly. "Under the circumstances, I see no reason to delay the ceremony."

"All right, it's settled," Edwina stated. "Mrs. Smith, as the grandmother, would you take the baby and hand him to Miss Smith?"

Iris nodded. She stood with Lily beside her, and reached in to the cradle, scooping the baby up in her arms. "Goodbye, little man," she said softly. "You're going to a good home with good people. You'll be safe there." She kissed his forehead, placed the baby in Lily's arms, and turned away, no longer able or willing to hide her tears.

Lily held her son and gazed down at him, and her mother's heart nearly came undone. "I wish I could keep you. I wish-" She stopped and swallowed back her tears. "I wish a lot of things." Quickly, she handed the baby to Delia.

Brody stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his new family. "I don't think we can call him Charlie Rich, mama," he told his wife in a voice raspy with emotion. "He's not blond one bit."

"How about Johnny Cash, the man in black?" Delia whispered, never once taking her eyes off the tiny bundle in her arms.

Brody's face hardened, and his eyes met McGonagall's. "No, mama," he told his wife. "That boy won't be named after a former convict, no matter how good a singer he is."

"How about Merle, then?" she suggested. "Haggard's a pretty good singer."

He grinned. "Why that's perfect!" he exclaimed. "Kinda short for Merlin, too! After all, he was born to a red-headed princess-" His eyes caught Lily's green ones. "-and some kind of devil."

Lily smiled ruefully. "I'm no princess, Mr. Jones," she protested, "and the father isn't exactly a devil. He just works for one."

Delia whispered. "It's a perfect name." She cuddled the baby, inhaling the newborn scent.

"Done," Powers said. He closed up his briefcase and stood. "Miss Hancock, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, are you ready? I believe there is a noon portkey to Boston. We can make it if we leave now."

"Goodbye," Brody said, shaking hands all around. "And thank you."

"Here," Iris handed him a large bag, featuring Paddington Bear. "This is for-" She paused. "- for little Merle. I filled it with bottles, formula, nappies, just little things I thought you might need."

Brody took the offered bag with a grin. "That was mighty kind of you, Mrs. Smith."

"Goodbye," Miss Hancock said, gathering her purse. "These things are best done with expediency." She and Mr. Powers, joined hands in a ring around the new family, and apparated away.

"Oh," Iris cried in dismay, "they forgot a bottle." She held up an empty bottle.

Robert McGonagall stood before them, holding his briefcase in his hands. "Is there anything else I can do for either of you?"

Lily nodded grimly. "Yes, Mr. McGonagall," she declared. She reached for the bottle from her mother, and taking out her wand, she extracted several long and twisty, silvery threads. Ruthlessly, she stuffed the memories into the bottle and sealed it shut. "Please deliver this to Madam Pomfrey when you see her. I don't want to remember any of this, ever! But, just in case, someone should know what happened."

The lawyer frowned. He took the memory and carefully stowed it in his briefcase.


	21. Chapter 21

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

Chapter 21

 **January 5, 1997**

The four of them emerged from the pensieve simultaneously; each wrapped in his own sorrow-filled thoughts. Albus groped blindly for Minerva's hand. Their eyes met, and her eyes filled with tears. Hermione watched as Severus staggered back from the bowl, a wild look in his eyes.

Desperately, Severus cast frantic looks around the room as if he needed to escape from some nameless, formless horror. His eyes caught each of theirs momentarily, begging for something he couldn't even name. Without warning he collapsed, his knees slamming onto the cold stones. After all this time, he'd finally reached his breaking point.

Poppy watched him huddled there on the floor like a wounded animal, and she eased her way to his side. "Severus," she whispered as she reached for his arm, "I am so, so sorry."

"Don't touch me! Don't come near me!" he screamed, his throat raw with unshed tears. "You should have told me! She should have told me!" He reached up and gripped his hair, pulling it. "Where is my son?" he murmured over and over to himself. The once proud man rocked back and forth in emotional pain.

His old joints creaking in protest, Albus knelt beside Snape warily. "Severus," he said gently, "Severus, my boy, what do you need?"

The younger wizard shuddered, and he gazed at the Headmaster as if he didn't recognize the man. "Lily," he groaned. "Why? Why would she do this? She did love me once. I thought she did, but - and - now-" He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned in anguish. The sound brought chills to those around him.

Poppy slipped a potion to the Headmaster, and she backed away from the heart-breaking scene. Twenty years ago, she had helped a girl in trouble only because she wanted to spare a young man, this young man, additional sorrow. And, now, that the wizard was a grown man, the secret was out, and there was twice the sorrow and pain for him. And now there was much, much more pain to come because of her actions in trying to prevent it. The irony of it all broke her heart. She turned away and wept in the window casement.

"Severus, my boy," Albus whispered tenderly, "take this. It will help you sleep. You've been through a terrible, terrible shock." The younger wizard only stared helplessly at him as tears coursed down his face. "Let me help you." Albus held the vial up to Snape's mouth, so he could swallow it.

"I want to find him, Albus," Severus cried. "Please help me find him. My boy, -" His words trailed off as the sedative quickly took effect.

Minerva moved forward to help Albus catch Snape. "Sosty," she said called out.

Quick as a flash, Sosty appeared. "Sosty ready to serve," the little elf declared.

"Please take Severus to his rooms," Minerva instructed. "Put him to bed. I want you to stay with him."

"Just as Missy Minerva says," Sosty asserted. She snapped her fingers, and she and her charge disappeared.

Seeing that Poppy was sobbing uncontrollably, Hermione stepped forward to help Minerva up. Together, they pulled Dumbledore to his feet. The Headmaster, with McGonagall's assistance, hobbled to a chair and sat down. "Poppy, we need to talk. Gather yourself." He gestured to the other chairs in the room. "All of you sit down. It goes without saying that this information will not leave this room."

Minerva reached back into Dumbledore's desk and pulled out the book before she took her seat. Hermione led Poppy to a chair and shove several tissues into her hand before she sat down.

"I won't ask why you did what you did all those years ago," Dumbledore addressed Poppy. "Your reasons are obvious, and I believe they were full of heartfelt good intentions, but the road to hell, so they say, is paved with good intentions." He jerked off his spectacles and attempted to clean them. The old man was angry.

The young elf, Weena, appeared and curtsied before Dumbledore. Shaking with worry and fear, the little elf reached timidly for the glasses. "Sosty tell Weena to care for Missy Min and Headmaster Dumbleydore." She cleaned the glasses and returned them to him. With another quick bob, she scurried to hide behind Hermione.

"Thank you, Weena," he muttered politely. He glared at Poppy, his blue eyes nearly sparking fire. "What I want to know is why you are informing us of this now?"

Poppy's blue eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and the tears were still running down her cheeks. She tried to answer the Headmaster, really she did, but her words were punctuated by sobs and totally non-understandable.

Minerva sighed. "Albus," she said gently, "look. It's all here." She flipped open the book and held it out to him.

It only took a few moments for the old man to find the correct information. "Merlin's beard!" he exclaimed. "You mean - you mean that the young American chap, that Merle Harper, Severus' apprentice, is the son of Severus and Lily Evans Potter?" He slammed the book shut and held it in his lap.

"Severus is torn apart already," Poppy cried in anguish. "He already knows he fathered a son, but he doesn't know who it is. Once he does, how will he ever be able to face the young man? Work side by side with him?"

"Does either of them have to know?" Albus asked. "Apparently, Lily wished for a closed adoption. So, the matter should remain closed. There's no need to muddy up the water anymore, especially now that we're moving to war."

"I disagree completely, Albus!" Minerva insisted. "Severus was never consulted on the issue. His rights were violated and dismissed. He deserves a chance to decide if he wants to find his child."

Hermione licked her lips and swallowed. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I know my opinion hasn't been asked here, but what about Mr. Harper? He just lost his father. I can understand that feeling." Her voice cracked. "Now that he's alone, he might want to learn about his biological parents. He's not a child, so shouldn't he have some say in the matter as well?"

Dumbledore hummed. "You have a point, Hermione," he said with a sigh. "Let's leave things alone for now, at least until Severus is alert. In the mean time, I'll take over the DADA classes. That will give Severus some time."

"Hermione," Poppy asked gently, "Severus has made it clear that he doesn't want me near. I'm hoping that you will nurse him. I know he's prickly and a horrid patient, but he needs someone right now."

"I don't mind," Hermione said. "I've finished my studies for now, but I don't know if Professor Dumbledore still needs me to help him." She looked at the older wizard.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, my dear, I am certain that the sixth horcrux is the snake. As for the seventh, I have a fairly good idea about that." He face was stony. "Stay with Severus and help him if you can."

 **January 9, 1997**

"Well, good morning, little lady," Merle declared. He nodded his head. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Oh," yelped Hermione. She jumped. "I, I didn't hear you come in," she stammered, catching her breath. "You must be the new Muggle Studies professor," she said with a smile.

"I am at that," he replied. He took another few steps into Dumbledore's office. "I've been told I move too quietly, like a sneaky cat," he laughed, his black eyes gleaming with mischief. "I didn't mean to startle you, Miss -"

Hermione grinned back at him. He was even more handsome up close, and he looked very much like his father. Or what his father would have looked like had Severus had a happy, loving family, who took care of him. "Well, you did startle me just a bit," she confessed. "Are you looking for the Headmaster?"

His smile faded a bit. "Yes, ma'am," he told her. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to meet him in his office after classes today." He took off the long, black teaching robe. "Can't stand this thing," he whispered with a wink. "It gets all tangled up in my legs. They might as well be asking me to wear a long dress!"

She laughed aloud at the thought. "I'd like to see that"

"Well, Miss-" He paused to smile at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"This is Miss Granger," Albus Dumbledore declared loudly. He and Minerva stepped into through the office door. "Miss Hermione Granger is my personal research assistant, and her presence here is to be kept a complete secret."

"As part of your Vow, you are not to mention her to anyone," Minerva declared. "As for your 'dress,' if you'd feel more comfortable, I'm sure I can find you a nice kilt."

Merle looked abashed for a moment, and then he laughed. "No, ma'am, I think I'd prefer the teaching robes. My legs are a might too white and hairy for that."

Albus Dumbledore nodded to him, and although he did not crack a smile, there was a twinkle in his eyes. "Mr. Harper -"

"Merle, please," he reminded him.

He gave him another nod. "Merle, we are terribly sorry to hear about the recent loss of your father. How are you holding up?"

He frowned and sighed. "Fairly well, I expect," he answered. "We lost my mama when I was just a little fella to a drunk driver, so it was just my pop and me for the longest time." He paused, shifting the words around in his mind. "His death wasn't really a surprise. Death from cancer is a long time coming, and it's almost a relief for the patient when it does. I guess I'm still a bit in shock over it. I don't guess you ever really get over such things, do you? The loss of your family."

"The pain lessens with time," Dumbledore told him, "but it never really goes away entirely."

"I can sympathize with you," Hermione said softly. "I lost my parents this summer. Death Eaters killed them."

Merle stared at her for an uncomfortably long time. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Hermione," he told her gently. "I've heard of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters all my life. After my ma passed, Pop told me about them and their evil ways." He swallowed hard and set his jaw. "You see, my folks weren't my biological parents. They adopted me as a baby. My pop told me all he knew, but my biological mama wanted a closed adoption, so-"

"Have you ever thought of looking for them?" Hermione asked softly. "I mean, do you know anything about them?'

"Oh, I've thought about it," Merle gave her a small smile, "especially now that I'm here in the UK where I was born, but -" He paused and shrugged his shoulders.

"But what?" Minerva asked.

"Well, my pop said my biological mother was a beautiful, red haired princess from Wales, and my father was some kind of devil." He laughed sadly. "He said that's partly why they named me Merle. It was to be a play off the story of Merlin, you know. Anyway, when I got older he told me about the Death Eaters." His eyes became obsidian flakes, and his voice became cold as shards of ice. "My biological father was one of them."

"Merle," Dumbledore said, "may I suggest that everything is not always what it appears?"

"What does that mean?" The younger wizard pounced angrily on the Headmaster's words.

Albus looked distressed. "I didn't mean to upset you, my boy," he said in his most grandfatherly tone. "No, not at all." Dumbledore moved behind his desk and sat down. "However, to change this obviously unsettling topic, I must let you know that Master Snape is ill. In fact, Hermione, I believe it's time for you to check on him."

Hermione nodded. "Of course, please excuse me."

As Hermione left through the private chambers beyond, Dumbledore continued his conversation. "Now, as I was saying, Master Snape is rather ill at the moment, and your apprenticeship may need to be postponed. Of course, our Professor Horace Slughorn would be quite willing to begin your training until Severus has recovered if that is acceptable to you."


	22. Chapter 22

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 22**

January 12, 1997

He was staring at the wall when he heard the rustle of robes, but he couldn't rouse himself to care. _Everything I've done has been for Lily,_ he thought. _Lily, who never really loved me, who took my son away._ He rolled onto his stomach, sobbing into the pillow.

The creaking protest of aching joints joined the rustling of robes as this visitor settled into a chair beside his bed. "Severus?" a man's voice asked gently, "Severus, would you like anything? How can I help you, my boy?"

Wiping his face on the pillow, Severus rolled back over. "Nothing, Albus," he muttered faintly. "There is nothing. I'm nothing." Severus shook his head weakly. "My parents hated me, blamed me for everything." He swallowed, trying to force the emotion out of his voice, but he failed. "Lily - Sweet Merlin - what did she do to me? Where is my child? Why didn't she tell me?"

"Shhh," Albus cooed, "hush now, my boy. You need to rest, not re-live this. I can't say what she was thinking, and I don't pretend to understand what she felt, but she was entirely in the wrong."

He blinked twice. "It doesn't matter, Albus," he whispered. "There is no reason for me to continue -"

"Yes, there is!" Albus whispered harshly. "You must get well, Severus. You are key to our fight against Tom. You still have your mission to fulfill. You must protect Harry."

"Lilly's second child," he muttered morosely.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, "and now you have an additional task - to find your son."

A small glimmer of eagerness shone in his eyes. "You'd help me? Albus, would you help me find him?"

"You know I would. I'd do anything for you, Severus," Dumbledore chided him gently. "You are very important. You're the closest thing I have to a son, and I love you."

Tears filled Severus' black eyes, and his throat was tight with emotion. "Then perhaps you can understand just a little part of how I feel. My child -" He broke off in sobs and turned his face again to the wall.

January 25, 1997

The sweet scent of jasmine and lavender was back. "Severus," the soft voice urged, "laddie, I need ye to sit up a mite. Aye, there now, lad, that's fine. Can ye take a sip or two of this broth? Sosty made it herself. It's warm and nourishing."

Severus, eyes barely slit open, struggled to sit up. The soft voice had been there for every meal time; he'd refused to allow an elf to help him. Softly, she urged him to drink some soup or juice.

He'd thought once or twice that maybe it was his mother, but she'd never been so tender with him. And she had long been dead. Maybe he was dead, too. It wouldn't matter, except this presence of the sweet scented woman who held him upright.

"Och, ye're doing fine, lad, just fine," the voice urged. "A bit more of the broth? I know ye don't want it, but ye have to keep your strength up. Yes, drink a bit more. Can't have you wasting away." She snorted. "Ye're skin and bones as it is. No, I'll not let ye lay back until ye've finished the bowl."

He did as he was told. It was far easier to obey than to think. And the broth was warm and good.

"There now," she said, "ye've managed a whole bowl this time. Why, in a few days maybe we can get ye back to some solids."

The woman with the soothing voice wore a lovely floral scent, and he closed his eyes, inhaling it. He didn't care if he ever woke up, and he rolled onto his side, curling up. He squeezed his eyes tight, tears leaking from the corners. _Why?_ he thought. _Why won't this pain go away? I can't take much more._

She patted his shoulder. "All right, then, lad," the soft voice said. "You just sleep now. I'll be back later with some supper."

February 5, 1997

Severus Snape had slept for more than he had ever before, and when he finally awoke he found nothing changed. He lay in the bed lethargically, staring at the wall. He didn't know how long he had lain there, leaving the bed only to visit the loo. He could barely remember eating or drinking from time to time. Life meant nothing to him.

When he made the effort to rise (and each time was more strenuous than the last), he was vaguely aware there was someone with him. Someone constantly sat beside his bed. Hazy memories told him so. He remembered Albus' soothing prescence or Minerva's floral scent.

"Professor Snape," Hermione's shrill voice called. Her words slowly filtered down through his mind, but it was her shaking him that roused his attention. "Professor Snape, you've been in bed long enough," she told him in a tone that sounded oddly reassuring. "It's time you got up."

He rolled over by sluggish degrees. "Leave me alone," he rasped out. He was in the process of closing his eyes, when she pulled the covers down. Cold air hit him like a hammer, and he jerked his head back at her. "I said to leave me!" He tried to shout at her, but his words came out as an angry buzzing noise.

Hermione wrinkled her nose, and she squared her shoulders for battle. "No," she told him point blank. "You haven't eaten or bathed in weeks, and I'm not going to let you waste away."

"Why you?" he muttered darkly.

"Well," the girl explained gently, "the Headmaster is teaching your classes. Minerva is teaching her classes, and you refuse to let Poppy near you. So, that leaves me and Sosty."

"Sosty is ready, Missy Mione," the motherly elf said as she appeared with a soft pop.

"Thank you, Sosty," Hermione replied. "If you'll help the professor with his bath, I'll change the bed linens."

"I refuse to be man-handled by an elf!" He tried to snap the word, but he didn't have the energy. It was all he could manage to twisted himself and sit up on the side of the bed. A wave of dizziness rushed over him, and he clutched the side of the bed with both hands.

Hermione sighed. "All right," she told him. She dropped his pillow and walked around to the other side of the bed. Sitting down beside him, she reached an arm around his waist to hoist him up.

A look of horror swept over his face, and he broke out in a sweat. "What do you think you're doing?" he squeaked. Immediately, a coughing spell caught him, and it wracked his thin frame.

"Here, drink some water." Hermione's voice was calm and soothing. She waited until the coughing subsided, and he pushed the empty cup away. "Feel better?" she asked as she pushed the hair out of his face. "Good, then, let's see if you can stand."

"What do you want from me?" he muttered. But, with her assistance, he stood, weak-kneed though he was.

"I'm going to help you with your bath," she told him matter-of-factly.

His knees buckled, but she held him upright. "Absolutely not," he told her, refusing to take one more step.

She sighed. "Well, it's either me or Sosty. You can't manage it alone, and frankly, Severus, you stink."

He frowned at her words, the more so because he knew she was right. "What about Weena? Why can't my own elf help me?" _That elf of Minerva's is too much like her mistress. She's scary!_ He shivered at the thought.

"Because Weena is too easily intimidated, and you'll bully her," Hermione retorted, finally losing her patience. "Now, choose, Snape," she told him, "either me or Sosty."

"Sosty," he mumbled. Instantly and effortlessly, Sosty had Severus in the bath. Snape lay back in the steaming tub and let it ease into his muscles. "What's that?" he demanded. "What are you putting in the water with me?"

"You is potions master," Sosty replied almost as tartly as her owner. "Bath salts to ease sore muscles." The little elf held up a bottle of yellowish goo. "This special hair wash."

 _I should stop this farce, command the little beast to leave me be, but_ \- He closed his eyes and gave himself up to her ministrations.

The elf's practiced fingers scrubbed and massaged his scalp and shoulders. Quickly, before he could complain further, Sosty had washed and conditioned his hair. "Drink," she told him.

Severus' opened his eyes to find Sosty holding a tall glass of pumpkin juice. Condensation was running down the sides of the glass, dripping into the water.

"What is it?" he demanded.

Sosty frowned at him. "Punkin juice with strength potion," she told him. "You is puny. You needs it."

 _Fighting with the little brute would be worse than fighting with Minerva_ , he thought. He took the glass and drained it as she insisted. _Damn the little creature,_ he thought. _She's right. I did need it._ "Take it," he growled at her, thrusting the empty glass at her.

Sosty smiled at him, but he closed his eyes again and pretended not to see it. "Now for bath," she warned him. She began soaping up a bath flannel with scented soap.

He cracked an eye. "I do not want scented soap. I do not use scented soap."

"Sandalwood and cedar," she replied, "masculine scent good for Master."

Revived in part by the juice, Snape sat up and reached for the soap and flannel. "I'm not a child," he said as if he were imparting to the elf one of the greatest secrets of the universe. "I am a grown man, and I am capable of washing myself."

She put her hands on her bony hips, her scrawny arms akimbo. "Master rather Missy Mione help with bath?"

"No, damn you!" Snape growled. He washed himself carefully, secretly horrified at just how dirty the water was. _How long was I wallowing in bed?_ he wondered. _And how long would I have stayed there if Hermione and this elf hadn't forced me up?_ Then he realized that he was unable to rise from the water without help. Fear coursed through him, and he was unable to hide it. "Sosty-"

Without speaking a word, the little elf magically lifted him from the bath and set him in a chair beside the tub. She snapped her spindly fingers, cleaning the tub, and handed him a warm, fluffy towel. Using a second towel, she dried him off, rubbing briskly. Eyeing him critically, she said, "Master Snape in need of hair cut and shave."

"I like my hair long," he muttered sullenly.

Using her magic, Sosty removed his beard and trimmed his hair. Then she smiled at the result. "Master Snape very handsome," she told him. "Smell better too." Another snap of her fingers had him clad in warm, flannel pajamas. And before he could mutter more complaints, she had him up and into bed again.

"Now, isn't that better?" Hermione asked. "You're clean, and your sheets are changed. The room has been aired out, and everything smells so much nicer." She helped him sit up, tucking clean, fluffy pillows behind him. "Thank you so much for the help, Sosty."

"Master Snape behave well," she replied with a nod. Then she vanished from sight.

"I don't like these," he grumbled, pulling at the green top. "It looks like something Draco would wear."

She hid her smile and settled a tray of food over his lap. "I thought you'd like them," she replied, tucking a napkin around his neck. "They are a lovely shade of forest green with sliver piping, quite appropriate for the head of Slytherin."

"I prefer nightshirts."

She ignored him. "Here is some chicken vegetable soup, soft rolls, a fruit cup, and pumpkin juice. The soup is in a mug to make it more manageable."

"Thank you." The words were grumbled and barely audible, but they pleased the girl. He took a long drink from the soup mug. _Either the soup is outstandingly delicious, or I haven't eaten in a while. Sweet Merlin! How long have I been ill?_ "Miss Gra-"

"Hermione."

He frowned, took another long drink from the mug. "Hermione," he began again, "how long have I -"

"The students and staff were told that you have a severe case of dragon pox," she told him. "You've been ill for a month, Severus."

 _A month!_ "What have I missed?" He was shocked, and his heart pounded with fear. Severus struggled to get up.

Hermione pushed him back. "I'll catch you up on everything if you promise to finish you meal." She waited until he settled back and began eating a roll. "The Headmaster is teaching the DADA classes, so you have nothing to worry about there. Slytherin house is being very well managed by Professors Sinistra and Slughorn, so you have nothing to worry about there." He'd finished the first roll and was starting on the second. "We made sure that news of your illness got back to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, so you have nothing to worry about there either."

As she spoke, he allowed himself to slowly relax and finished his meal. "Thank you," he said, this time so she could hear. "Though I don't feel as if I deserve anyone's help."

"Of course, you do!" she insisted with a smile. "Besides, that's what friends are for."


	23. Chapter 23

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 23**

 **February 10, 1997**

"Headmaster?" Harper called out. He knocked on the door frame as he held the door open for Poppy and himself to enter the office.

"Albus!" Poppy cried out. "Where are you?"

"Right here," Dumbledore answered cheerily. He sat up from behind his desk. "I was just rubbing some pain reliever on my feet." He chuckled. "I haven't stood on my feet, teaching in years. I think I'll ask for padded mats for each teacher's classroom." He replaced his red and purple, sequined, curly-toed shoes. "If the school board won't purchase them, I'll spring for them out of my own pocket." He groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Although I quite agree with the need for the padded mats," Poppy said quickly, "most of your problem is your atrocious footwear."

Harper laughed. "It's more what we can do for you, sir," he said. "Could I take another look at your hand?"

"Of course, you can," Dumbledore said, laying his hand atop his desk. "Do you really think you can do something about it?"

Harper frowned in concentration; he turned Dumbledore's hand over, studying the palm. "That is some bad, mama-jama curse," he muttered.

Dumbledore grunted in agreement. "It was a horcrux."

Harper shook his head. "I've seen similar curses in N'Orleans," he muttered, "not as bad as this one, though." Letting go of the old man's hand, he looked Dumbledore dead in the eye. "The best thing for it would be to remove the hand before-"

"No."

"Stubborn old cuss!" Poppy asserted.

"I hate to disagree with you, sir, but -"

"Mr. Harper," Dumbledore interrupted, "I know you are aware of the precarious situation we are in; therefore, you will appreciate the fact that I must keep my wand hand for battle."

"Yes, sir, I do," Harper agreed with a deep sigh. "All righty, then, I have one more thing to try." He reached for his back pocket, but his hands entangled in his teaching robes. "Blasted dress!" he complained as he snatched off his teaching robes. He wadded them up in a ball and tossed them towards a chair. Once his hands were free, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet.

"Minerva's brother is tall like you," Dumbledore said casually. "I believe you would be able to wear one of his kilts. Shall I have him send you one?"

"You can if it'd make you happy," Harper replied with a grin, "but it'd take more than you, old man, to get me into it!" From the wallet, he removed a folded piece of parchment. "I found an old book in the very back of Professor Snape's potions cabinet. It had fallen behind some old text books, and it was falling apart." Slowly, he unfolded the paper. "I transcribed it with Miss Irma's help, and she's trying to restore the book."

"May I see that?" Dumbledore asked as he settled his glasses on his long nose. He hummed while he read. "While I appreciate your efforts, young man, this is a maternity spell and potion," he explained gently and smiled ruefully. "This will do nothing to force the curse out of my hand," he explained gently. "We need something - a charm, spell, or potion - that will expel the blight."

"That's where you're going wrong," the younger wizard declared. "Instead of trying to force it out, we need something that will coax it out. This spell and potion work together and are used to aid a woman in labor. Sometimes a baby gets lodged or twisted," he continued. "When this happens, it's dangerous for both mother and child. This spell acts upon the child, encouraging it to come out, thereby helping itself and its mother." He perched on the arm of a chair. "Right now the curse is trapped in your hand, and, like the living thing it is, it's growing and needing more room, so it's trying to crawl back down your arm." He gestured as he explained. "But, if we can coax it out, fool it into believing that there's a better host for it, we might can get it to leave voluntarily."

"But that's brilliant!" Poppy exclaimed. "And it has a good chance of working because the horcrux is still there."

Dumbfounded, the Headmaster re-read the paper. "Poppy," he said, excitement tingeing his voice, "can you brew the potion and perform this spell? Will it work?"

"If she can't, I'm sure I can," Severus Snape declared. He was even paler than normal, and he swayed ever so slightly on his feet, but he was there. Snape sauntered into the room by way of the secret passage for the Heads of House and settled himself in a soft chair before the Headmaster's desk. He gripped the arms of the chair to still their shaking.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said breathlessly as she rushed into the room after him. "I tried to make him stay in bed, but-" She glared at Snape. "-but he declared himself well and left without taking his strengthening potion."

Merle Harper stood up, a slow smile on his face. "Are you Master Severus Snape?" he asked.

"I am," he responded carefully, "and you must be the Yankee."

Harper winced. "American by birth, sir, but Southern by the Grace of God," he replied solemnly. Then he spoiled the effect with a grin and laugh. "Well, actually, sir, I'm a Brit by birth, I suppose." He cocked his head at the older man. "You know, the Headmaster is dead right. You and I do favor a bit."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Yes, well, Poppy," he interrupted, "what can you tell us about this spell? And, Severus, please allow Miss Granger -" He glared at Snape over the tops of his spectacles. "-to give you the medication."

"This is a very ancient spell, Albus, but it seems fairly straightforward," Poppy declared. She moved towards the Headmaster's desk, took a parchment and quill, and began writing away. "It takes a female caster," she said, "who represents fertility."

"Molly Weasley is the obvious choice there," Severus grumbled. "What else?"

"It also takes a potion created of a 'sept' to receive the baby, or in this case horcrux," Poppy replied. "Most of the ingredients are fairly standard. There are a few archaic names, which I don't recognize, and a few rare items, but the main problem is that it specifically requires all ingredients to be a 'sept,' but -" Poppy shook her head. "- I have no idea what that means."

"Let me see," Snape demanded, and he held out his hand. As he reached for the parchment, his eyes met Poppy's. Anger and hurt shone brightly in them, but he clenched his jaw and said nothing.

"Aren't 'septs' some sort of family name or clan? It would make sense for a family to gather together to receive a child," Harper asked. "Miss Minerva might know if it has something to do with -"

"No, it's a number," Hermione declared as she leaned over Severus' shoulder. "Look, it's just stating the number of items to use. 'Sept' means seven, so you'll need seven -"

"Assuming it is a number," Poppy replied, "then, it must mean nine and not seven. September is the ninth month."

"That's true now," Snape added as he nodded at Hermione, "but originally there were only ten months in the calendar year. Julius and Augustus Caesar took part of the summer to establish months to be named after them. Thus, we now have July and August. However, Hermione is correct; there were originally only ten, and September was the seventh."

"Huh, I never realized that," Harper said. "So, instead of being born at the end of the ninth month, I was actually born at the end of the seventh month."

Hermione paled. She turned to face Dumbledore, as she quoted, " 'Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies' - Professor, you don't think -"

Shock spread throughout the old man, but he quelled it. "Now is not the time, Miss Granger," he told her brusquely. "Severus, how long will it take you and Merle to create the potion part of this spell? Could you be ready, say by the end of the month?"

"Yes," Snape drawled, "of course."

"No," Poppy interjected. "You aren't strong enough, Severus. Oh, stop looking at me that way. I know you're angry with me, and I know you're doing your best to give me the silent treatment, but I won't have you risk your -"

"I. Am. Fine." He was adamant. Slowly, he stood. "Mr. Harper -"

"Merle, sir."

Severus frowned. "Merle," he said with a nod, "then let's remove ourselves to my private lab where -"

"Severus," Dumbledore said softly, interrupting the Potions Master, "I think that perhaps you should know first that your apprentice is -"

"Headmaster," Snape barked, "I am well aware that my apprentice has been working with you as well as Slughorn. I'm sure I can right any bad habits the two of you might have caused him to develop."

Dumbledore frowned. "That isn't was I was going to say, Severus." He sighed. "I think you'd do best to sit here a moment longer, collect your strength, let the younger folks -" He gestured towards Hermione and Merle. "-go ahead and get started in the lab. You and I haven't had a chat in a while, not since you were taken ill. We have several things, important matters, to catch up on."

Severus, blushing with anger and wounded pride, stood up from his chair. "I assure you that I am in perfect health," he declared. There was ice in his tone. "I am more than capable of working in my own lab as well as resuming the rest of my duties tomorrow morning."

"Very well," Dumbledore snorted the reply, "if you're so eager, then by all means hurry on to your lab. But I must insist that you see me today; there are things that -" He paused as he recognized Severus' trademark stubborn stance: clenched jaw, jutting chin, crossed arms. The old man shook his head. There would be no reasoning with the boy. "All right, Severus," he offered. "We'll have our little discussion after the potion is finished. In the mean time, though, I'll continue with your classes. I think it may be better to keep you hidden a while longer. Besides, I'm rather enjoying myself."

 **February 15, 1997**

"It's simply amazing watching you work, sir," Harper said. He grinned at the older man and rubbed at the weeks' worth of stubble on his cheeks.

"Really, boy," Snape snapped, "this constant hero worship of yours is becoming tedious. We've been working together non-stop for a week. You should be used to me by now."

"Cranky old fart, aren't you?" the boy bit back. "I'm just trying to compliment you. You don't have to get your nose out of joint about it!"

"Leave my nose out of it! I am well aware of its prominence without your assistance!" Snape glared, but the boy didn't flinch. "I do not need your help. I do not need anyone's help, and I certainly did not need an apprentice to begin with. Furthermore -"

With a look of faux shock, Merle interrupted the older man. "Oh, wow," he said in a dead-panned monotone, "I never would have known. Thank you so much for enlightening me, O Master of Potions."

"Get out!" Severus hissed. He shook with anger.

The two men, so much alike, stood nose to nose glaring. Fortunately, their inevitable outbreak of hostilities never achieved its critical mass because they were suddenly doused in feminine laughter.

"You don't think they'll really fight, do you?" Hermione said, trying to stop her giggles.

"If they do, cast a _petrificus totalus_ ," Poppy replied with a smile. "I'll call the rest of the staff and student body down here, and we can sell tickets."

Hermione grabbed Poppy by the arm. "We'll make a fortune!"

Poppy clapped her hands together. "Now, now, boys, if you've finished, we have work to do. Everything is set, and Molly will be arriving this evening after dinner."

"You've both been locked in here alone for a week," Hermione added with a touch of reproach. "It's no wonder you've gotten on each other's nerves."

Harper backed away with a snort. "Sorry, Master Snape," he grunted. "But I've never met another man who could get my dander up so fast as you."

Snape grumbled something in return. He rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, carefully folding the cuffs back. "All that remains is to stir the requisite amount and then bottle it," he told them. "Hand me the wooden paddle behind you." He pointed out the paddle.

Merle caught sight of the Dark Mark on the other man's arm and froze. He grabbed Snape's arm and held it in an iron vise-like grip. "What's this?" he demanded. "Is this a Dark Mark? Are you one of those damned Death Eaters?" His grip moved from Severus' arm to his throat. "Are you a follower of Tom Riddle? Like that bastard who hurt my real mama?"

Merle's face was dark with rage, and Snape stood in shock. He tried to pull away, but the younger man held him fast. "Let. Me. Go!" he hissed.

"Stop! Stop!" Hermione screamed. She darted between the two men. "Severus is not a Death Eater, Merle! Let him go!"

"He's wearing a Dark Mark!" the younger wizard insisted. He drew Snape closer and cocked his arm, ready to drive a fist into the older wizard's face.

"He made a mistake, Merle," Hermione yelled. She tussled with them both. "Poppy, help! When he was a young man, he made a stupid mistake, just like you're making now! Damn it, stop!"

Right over her head, Harper's fist flew, smashing Snape in the nose. The older man went down with another broken nose and blood spattered shirt.

Then, Hermione leapt over the fallen man and turned to face his opponent, her wand drawn. She held the tip of it against Harper's chest. "Touch him again, and I'll hex your balls off!" she roared.

"You're damned lucky a girl was here to save your ass, Death Eater!" Harper yelled. Chest heaving, he slowly backed away from Hermione.

Snape scrambled to his feet. "And what if I said I didn't _need help from a filthy little Mudblood like her?"_ He wiped viciously at the blood.

"Oh, Severus," Poppy whispered.

Hermione wheeled around, her wand now pointed at Severus. "Then I'd say it's a damn good thing I don't give a fuck what you think you need. I am your friend, Severus Snape, and you're getting my help whether you want it or not."

Poppy caught the younger man by both arms and pulled him back. "You are wrong, young man, wrong!" she shouted as she jerked him backwards. Finally the heat of battle seemed to have drained from him, and she grabbed him by the ear, dragging him out of the lab.

Hermione sighed and marched over to Severus and, without a word, she helped him up and onto a stool. "Episkey!" Hermione repaired Severus' nose. "Evanesco!" She cleaned the blood away. Shoving her wand back into her sleeve, Hermione stared angrily at Snape.

"I am sorry, Hermione," he said with a shudder. The anger was still coursing through him. "I am sorry for what I said, but you had no right to intervene." He stopped. Déjà vu hit him much like Harper's fist, and blackness surged towards him.

"Severus!" Hermione caught him as he swayed on the stool. Casting a quick bit of wandless magic, she transfigured the stool into an armchair, and she helped him lean back.

"I am so sorry, Hermione," he replied meekly.

Her smile was like the rainbow after the storm. "It's all right," she told him. "You are overworked, tired, and probably a bit afraid." She laughed ruefully. "Oh, don't pretend you weren't. I know I would have been. Merle is a big man, and he's younger, stronger, and much -"

"Yes, thank you for cheering me up," he told her sourly. Carefully, he sat up and became serious again. "Hermione," he admitted, "I would like to think of you as my friend." He snorted, scrubbing at his face. "You're probably one of my only true friends. I can't tell you enough how -"

"I forgive you, Severus," she told him again. "Now, you just have to forgive yourself."

He gave her a half-smile. "I'll try to," he whispered, "but if it should happen again -"

"I'll hex your balls off," she quipped, "but I'll still be your friend." Her smile faltered. "But, Severus, you've got a bigger problem now."

"An apprentice who hates me?" he asked flippantly.

"No," Hermione said gently, "a son who does."


	24. Chapter 24

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 24**

 **February 15, 1997**

"Ow! Let go of my ear!" the young wizard yelped. He was bent double and being dragged rapidly out of Snape's private potions lab and into the living area.

Poppy said nothing. She released his ear and pushed him onto the couch. "You have grossly overstepped yourself, Mr. Harper!" she whispered angrily at him. While he sat, holding his tender ear, she paced back and forth in front of him. "You assaulted your Master, a member of this faculty! A man," she huffed, "I might add, who is older and weaker than yourself!"

"Well, he's wearing a Dark Mark," Harper retorted. "And I've given my Unbreakable Vow, first to my father and then to Albus Dumbledore, to fight Tom Riddle and all his followers!"

"Your father!" Poppy exploded. "Your father!" She threw her hands up in the air. "Will you just listen to yourself! You don't even know who -"

His face went red again. "I know the man who raised me! I know he was a decent, good man!" he shouted back at her. "He was a Muggle, sure, but he made sure I knew all about the man who fathered me. He was Death Eater scum, no better than the evil bastard whose boots he licked!"

"Ambrose Harper was a kind man, a gentleman in every sense of the word!" Poppy retorted angrily. "He would never have condoned what you just did! Besides, Ambrose never met your biological father, only your mother, and her facts were somewhat biased!"

The angry flush drained from the young man's face. "How do you know my father's first name?"

Realizing too late her mistake, Poppy tried to back track. She shook her head. "I'm sure I don't -"

"Oh, yes, you do," Merle insisted. He stood up. Two steps took him to her. Gently, he reached and held her by the elbows. "Miss Poppy, I am sincerely sorry for upsetting you. I have a rotten temper, and I let it get the best of me."

His pleading black eyes, so much like Severus', had her instantly in tears. "Merle, please, it's not my place to -"

"You know, though, don't you?" he asked more softly. "You know who my parents are. Please, I know my mother wanted a closed adoption, and I won't bother her if she really doesn't want me to, but what I really need is -"

"Severus?" Minerva's head thrust through the fireplace. "Molly is here. Are you ready with the potion?"

As Hermione and Severus entered the room, Snape answered the floo call. "Minerva, the potion is ready." He nodded as Hermione handed the vial to Poppy. He had rolled his sleeves back down and donned his coat. Glancing at the younger man and Poppy, he arched an eyebrow. "Poppy is on the way, and we will follow her there momentarily."

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in my rooms," Hermione said. She and Poppy hurried through the secret door.

"Um, Master Snape, I owe you an apology," Harper said. "I saw that mark and lost my temper and blew up. Like I told Miss Poppy, I have a rotten temper. I should at least have given you a chance to explain."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "I do not owe my apprentice an explanation for anything I had chosen to do when he was barely able to walk." _Sweet stars! He is so much like me. I've been blind!_

Merle ground his back teeth. "You're right," he admitted with poor grace. "You don't owe me a damn thing." He took a long deep breath. "But, I promise you this, if I find out that you are -" The color was rising again in the young man's cheeks.

Snape interrupted him. "When this is over, you and I are going to have a long chat with Poppy Pomfrey," he told him quietly. Whipping around, the older man marched out of the door, leaving his apprentice to follow.

"As it happens, I'm familiar with this spell and potion," Molly was saying as they walked in. "I actually used it when the twins came." She smiled at the memory. "Those two just couldn't seem to make up their minds which one of them was to come first."

"I feel very confident that this will work," Dumbledore said. "Severus, I'm glad to see you looking more like yourself again."

Molly's maternal instinct kicked in, and she dared touch the dark man's forehead. "You still feel a bit warm, Severus," she said. "Poppy, I think he's running a fever."

Severus jerked back as if he'd been shocked. "Please keep your hands to yourself, woman." He glared at her and jerked his chin angrily at the young man behind him. "Mrs. Weasley, this is my -" He paused. "- apprentice," he informed her.

Merle frowned at the introduction. Then taking a good long look at Molly Weasley, he smiled, a heart-felt grin. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, I've heard about the newest staff member," Molly replied with a wink at Minerva, "and do call me Molly, dear."

"He is also the newest member of the Order as well," Albus added. "We can work at the table there." He indicated a work table set up in the middle of the room where Minerva's elf, Sosty, stood holding the sword of Gryffindor. "Hopefully, we'll be successful and can use the sword immediately to destroy it."

"It worked," Minerva sighed with relief. "Albus, how do you feel?"

"Tired," he mumbled. "Tired and sleepy."

"That's the sedative," Poppy replied. "Just go to sleep, will you? It will only last about twenty minutes."

"Severus," Minerva called out, "can you help me get Albus to bed? Sosty, please be sure to destroy that, that thing." She pointed to a small bundle lying on a table.

Sosty nodded. She raised the sword of Gryffindor, and with one sure stroke, she shattered the bundle, destroying the curse. Then, as if nothing special had just happened, she bustled around the room, straightening and cleaning up.

Poppy clasped the Weasley matriarch by the hand. "Molly," she said, "thank you so much. Would you like to stay the night? You can have breakfast with Ginny and Ron."

"I think I will take you up on the offer," Molly replied. "I'm dead on my feet."

"Sosty take Madam Weasley to her room," the little elf declared. She walked calmly to the door. "Sosty take message to Master Arthur for Madam Weasley."

"Miss Molly," Merle said, stopping Molly at the door. He wet his lips. "Could I ask you something personal?" He didn't wait for her reply. "I was adopted, and I'm looking for my biological mother. She was a witch from over here, and she had beautiful red hair like you. I was wondering if you might be -"

"Oh my goodness!" Molly squeaked.

"It's all right," Merle rushed on. "I mean, I know you wanted a closed adoption because my father was a Death Eater, and I don't want to cause you any trouble, but I just -" Tears were shimmering in the young man's eyes. He swallowed. "I need to know. I was born September 30, 1976."

"Oh, you poor boy," Molly whispered, clutching him to her. She smoothed down his dark hair, soothing him as any mother would before releasing him. "I'm so sorry, dear, but I'm not your mother. I had just had my third son then. Percy was about a month old when you were born."

Merle stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back. "Yes, ma'am," he said softly with a tiny smile. "I'm, I'm sorry if I caused you any distress."

"Oh, don't think a thing about it," she insisted. "And if you ever feel the need for a little mothering, you call me right up. Good night."

Once the door had closed behind Molly and Sosty, Severus turned to face the younger man. "I think now is a good time for a long overdue conversation," Severus said. He stood in the entrance to Dumbledore's private library. "Poppy, bring the boy."

With slow steps, Poppy ushered Merle into the library. She walked passed them both to where Minerva stood holding a large book. "Thank you, Minerva," she said softly. When she turned around, she saw that both men, so much alike, stood side by side. "Severus," she said softly, "again, I am so sorry."

"Get on with it," he growled, cutting his eyes away from her. He moved towards the window, his back to the room, and stared out towards the setting sun. _Shadows are creeping across the lawns, just like the shadows creeping into my heart._ He snorted at his own thoughts.

Poppy walked across the room to stand before the bewildered young wizard. "Merle," she said gently, "are you sure you want to know?"

He nodded. Fierce determination gleamed in his black eyes. "My adopted mama, she died when I was too young to know her," he answered. His words were thick with emotion. "But my papa, he told me all he could remember about the woman who gave birth to me. He told me how pretty she was with long red hair and bright green eyes. He told me that she was too young to look after a child-" He paused as his voice broke. "- especially when she'd been hurt so badly."

Poppy nodded. "You are right, Merle," she said. "I was there. I knew your mother, and I helped her keep her pregnancy a secret." She sat down on the sofa and smiled at his look of confusion. "Please sit." She patted the seat beside her. "Pregnant young women are not allowed at Hogwarts," she explained.

"Oh," he muttered with a blush. He sat beside her.

Poppy continued; her words were soft, but they carried across the room. "When you were born, I took a peek in the Hogwarts' book of magical babies. It records the name and parentage of all magical children born in the UK." She set the book on the sofa. "Your mother wanted to hide your birth from everyone, and the only way to do that was to remove your name from this book. So, I helped to set up an out of the country adoption. When you came back to the UK, you're name reappeared." She sighed. "Are you sure, Merle, really sure, that you want to know?"

He nodded solemnly, and she handed him the book. Slowly, he looked down at the page she had marked. "Merle Ambrose Harper," he read aloud, "son of -" He gulped. "-Lily Evans and -" He paused, his hand shaking so badly, he could barely read the words that followed, "Severus Snape!"

Severus turned slowly around to see his son's face colored with anger. "Be careful what you wish for, boy," he intoned sadly, "you just may get it."

In a blinding rush, Merle bolted across the room, fists flying.


	25. Chapter 25

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 25**

Severus made no attempt to stop the boy this time. But he did not simply stand, absorbing the blows. Knowing his nose was broken yet again, he jerked his head to the side in time for the boy's fist to smash through the window. Glass shattered around them both, and for a moment, he truly feared they would both topple from the window to their deaths.

" _Prohibere pugnam_!" Minerva shouted. She flicked her wand, and both men were whisked apart,sent to separate chairs, restrained, and muted. "Go ahead and heal them," she instructed the nurse, "though I'm sure it isn't the first time that one's had a broken hand, and I know this isn't Severus' first broken nose." Casually, she picked up the book and put it away. Then she sauntered over to the liquor cabinet and poured four glasses of firewhiskey.

Poppy shook her head in disgust. "I'm sure you're right about that, Minerva. By the way, what was that spell?" Poppy asked. "Thank you," she added with a sigh, accepting the glass of amber colored liquor.

Minerva swallowed. "Oh, you don't get to be Head of Gryffindor without learning some anti-fighting spells," she answered lazily. "The next one will drench them both in ice water."

"You'll have to teach that one to me," she muttered over her drink. "We could have used it earlier. This is their second fight today."

Another series of swishes and flicks of her wand, and Minerva had released the two men, sending a glass of whiskey to each of them. "That one there," she remarked, gesturing towards the younger man with her glass, "I think Filius is wrong. For all his intelligence, I don't think Ravenclaw is where he'd be suited. He's too much like his mother. He's a Gryffindor through and through."

Poppy nodded in agreement. "There's a good deal of his father in him too. The boy is hot tempered, refuses to listen, acts without thinking," she enumerated Merle's faults.

"That same attitude is what got me this damned mark, boy," Severus snarled. "If you don't manage to tame your temper, worse may happen to you."

"Is that a threat, old man?" Harper barked. "I've beat you twice today, and twice it took a woman to save your ass!"

"In case you didn't notice, _boy_ ," Snape shouted back, "I didn't fight back either time." He had risen half-way from his chair, but he halted, gaining control of his temper by slow degrees. He made a concentrated effort to sit back down. "I would never deliberately hurt my child," he told the younger man sorrowfully. "Heaven knows, my own father beat the hell out of me and my mother. Why would I ever want to do that to my son?"

Merle Harper's mouth snapped shut. He dropped his head for a long moment, and then he raised it and drained the glass. "All right, well, I'm sorry for that, but that doesn't explain why you're one of _them_."

Snape sighed and sipped his whiskey. "It's a long story, and I do not wish to share it," he replied evenly. "I was young. I had no one who seemed to care for me - no loving parents, no friends to speak of. I joined _them_ because for the first time in my life I felt a sense of belonging." His voice had grown hoarse, and he sipped more of the burning liquid. "All I had was my pride and my ambition. I wanted to establish myself as a Potions Master, and when the Dark Lord offered to pay for my apprenticeship, I thought he was being a friend. I only wanted to impress Lily and win her heart!"

Merle grunted with disbelief. "Then why did you hurt her? Why did you abandon her when she found out she was pregnant?"

"That's not true at all!" Poppy interceded. "Lily was no saint, and that's a fact you both need to realize." She stood and paced back and forth between them. "I won't go into the details, but you both need to know Lily was at fault in this."

Minerva swished her wand again, refilling everyone's drink. "The last time I checked, Poppy," she said, knowing the whole story needed to be told, "which wasn't so very long ago, it took two to tango."

Poppy whirled angrily at her friend. "Yes, it does, but Lily never informed Severus about her pregnancy. She lied to me and told me that Severus had decided not to be involved. That's why I called -"

"She what?" Severus gasped. He dropped his drink, shattering glass and splashing whiskey onto the floor. Again, he half rose from the seat, only to fall back in wounded astonishment. "She never told me, never," he insisted. He reached out a hand towards his son. "If I had known, Merle, I would have married her. Or raised you alone if that was all I could have of her! I would have done anything for Lily. Anything! I loved her!"

"She, she never told you?" Merle asked carefully.

"No!" Severus cried. "I never knew until a month ago that I had a son, and I didn't know it was you until today. All I know is that she left me for another."

"You called her a name, Severus," Minerva said softly. She knew neither man would never be able to get over this until the whole story came out. "You called her a mudblood and hurt her feelings."

"I did!" he confessed. "And I begged her forgiveness! I never meant it, but she wouldn't forgive me, and I could never forgive myself!" He turned towards the older witch then, appealing to her as if she were Lily. "When she left me, all I had left were my fellow Slytherins."

"And by then most of them had turned to You-Know-Who," Poppy added.

"Such a tragedy of errors," Minerva said, shaking her head sadly. "We know you didn't really mean what you said, Severus. You were a child, barely sixteen, and so was she. She should have forgiven you and told you the truth, but she didn't."

"But you still joined up with those evils sons of bitches," Merle accused him.

Severus nodded. "I did, much to my shame," he admitted. "However, I see no need to tell the rest of story here and now." He settled back in the chair and stared at his son. "But when the Dark Lord threatened to kill Lily-" His voice cracked with emotion. "-I went straight to Albus Dumbledore and threw myself on his mercy. I took an Unbreakable Vow, just as you did."

Poppy touched Merle on the shoulder. "He's a spy for us, Merle. Severus is working for the Order to bring that bastard down."

"You were cheated out of knowing your son, Severus," Minerva said bluntly, "and you, young man, were cheated out of knowing your father. And neither of you were at fault for it, but if you don't use the time you have together now, you're both a pair fools." She set her empty glass down with a thump.

Merle nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, again, for hitting -"

Snape shrugged and interrupted him. "You won't do it again," he muttered. Then he snorted. "You'd best make sure a certain young lady doesn't find out, though," he added. "I believe she threatened to -"

"Yeah, hex my balls off," he replied with a laugh. "Don't want that, do we? I mean, you missed being a father, but maybe one day you'd like to try for grandfather, hey?"

Snape frowned sternly. "Who says I've missed my chance to be a father?" Snape sniffed and eyed the younger man disdainfully. "I'm not so old now that I can't father a child," he replied arrogantly. Then he gave his son a repentant half-grin. "Fortunately for you, there's no woman who would have anything to do with me."

Minerva snorted rudely and exchanged knowing looks with Poppy. Standing up, Minerva walked over to Merle. "All right, Mr. Harper, as punishment for starting not just one but two fights with you father and Master, you will clean up this mess and repair the window." She gave him her patented teacher's glare. "And you will do it without magic."

"Yes'am," he said meekly. Then he grinned sheepishly at her and stood. "I'm sorry for wrecking the room, too."

"Wait!" Snape said, standing too. "This scene," he drawled, gesturing around him, "we may can make use of it."

"What do you mean, Severus?" Poppy asked wonderingly.

Slowly, Severus answered her, choosing his words carefully. "The last time I met with the Dark Lord, I was given specific instructions, which the Headmaster intended to play to our advantage, and -"

"Stop the Slytherin word games!" Minerva fussed. "What did Tom the Toe-rag command you to do, and what did Albus have to say about it?"

"I was ordered to kill Albus Dumbledore."

Minerva's eyes became brittle green glass. She was seething with anger. "And just what did Albus say?"

"Oh, he agreed," Severus told her. "Quite readily."

"What?" she exclaimed. "Do you mean to tell me, Severus Snape, that Albus order you to kill him?"

He nodded. "He knew it would put me in better standing with the Dark Lord, and he hoped that as a 'reward' I would be appointed the new Headmaster, a position from which I could keep the students safe," he replied.

"Um, hum," Poppy added angrily, "no doubt the old geezer told you that you'd be easing him out of his misery if we could find no cure for his cursed hand. Am I right?" She barreled on, not waiting for his answer. "And that would leave you utterly alone and friendless, hated by everyone in the Order."

"You should have told me this earlier, Severus," Minerva said coldly. Her eyes were like chips of ice. "I would have saved you the trouble and killed him myself for suggestion such a thing. You just wait until he wakes up!"

"Um," Merle ventured into the conversation, "how is leaving all this a mess going to help?"

"The scene is already set. All we have to do is call in the staff, show them the evidence, and have Poppy declare Dumbledore dead," he explained. "I'll 'escape' to the Dark Lord, my mission seemingly fulfilled."

"Then with Dumbledore in hiding," Poppy filled in the gaps, "the Order would have a secret weapon."

"Would it work?" Merle asked.

"Of course, it would," Severus replied. "Everyone is always ready to believe the worst of me."

"Yes," Minerva said slowly, "I think that's just what we'll do, but with one little twist."


	26. Chapter 26

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 26**

 **February 26, 1997**

"Well, what do you think?" Minerva asked. She reached to tuck the pillows more securely behind Albus.

"Min, my dear," he said, "I think it's a brilliant plan, totally unexpected. Tom will fall for it without a doubt." He frowned and pushed her hands aside. "Do stop fussing," he told her with a smile. "I'm fine, I assure you."

Poppy nodded. "He is telling the truth this time, Minerva," she said. "Let the old codger up." She turned and headed back into the library.

"Old codger, indeed!" he muttered. "Severus, tell me," he asked as he stood, donning his robe, "do you think her plan will work?"

The younger man stepped out of the shadows. "I do, Headmaster, and it will certainly lessen the casualties."

"Good heavens, my boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed. He perched his glasses on the tip of his nose. "What happened to your nose? It's been broken again."

"There was a - misunderstanding," Severus muttered quietly.

Dumbledore, tying the cords or his robe about his waist, walked quickly into his library. He stopped, stunned by the level of destruction. "And is this where your 'misunderstanding' happened?"

A sudden screech, like the wailing of a banshee echoed around the room, startling everyone inside.

"I told you what would happen if you hit him again!" screamed Hermione as she sailed through the secret door. Her fist made impact with Merle's face before the young wizard had time to get out of his chair. Anger pushed her, and she continued to pummel him until she was physically hauled away by Snape.

"Sit down, Hermione, and behave like a lady!" he yelled at her, flinging her onto the sofa.

Minerva shook her head. "Sosty," she called out, and when the little elf appeared, added, "please tell Filius to come to the Headmaster's office immediately. Tell him that Severus has killed the Headmaster. Be sure to tell him loudly and in front of witnesses."

"Would you bring some pain potions as well?" Poppy asked. "I've run out of those I generally carry with me."

Sosty gave the room and the three combatants a long, slow look of horrified anger and disgust. "Missy Min like messes?" she asked with ill-concealed disgust. "This -" She waved her bony arms around, gesturing at the disarray. "- mess get Sosty bad reputation."

Minerva flopped on the couch next to Hermione. She clamped her hand down tightly on the younger witch's arm, restraining her. "Yes, Sosty, I know it looks bad," she said. "We had a bit of a disagreement earlier."

Sosty stared at her mistress. "Disagreement?" The little elf snorted, and then she snapped her fingers. Instantly, Dumbledore's library was repaired. His antique work table gleamed with polish, shards of glass rejoined, flagstones sparkled with cleanliness, and the curtains shook free of dust. While the humans sat in shock, the little elf surveyed her work. Books, parchments, quills were reset into their proper places. The ceiling, floors, and walls were sterilized and had a fresh coat of paint. Even the humans occupants of the room had been healed and scrubbed within an inch of their lives.

Sosty smiled. "Better." Then she vanished.

"Jiminy Cricket!" Harper gasped. "Why don't we just send that little power house to kill Riddle?"

"Elves are forbidden to kill," Albus replied. "Don't think I haven't already thought of that."

"I meant that little wild cat sitting next to the Miss Minerva on the sofa," he muttered with a half grin.

"Oh, ha ha! I won't dignify that with an answer," Hermione retorted hotly.

The office door slammed open, and Filius Flitwick came panting in. His wand was drawn, and he took an immediate attack stance. "Minerva!" he bellowed, "Pomona is issuing emergency instructions to prefects and the head boy and girl. They are gathering and secluding all students in their dormitories." He slammed, locked, and warded the door behind him.

"Filius," Minerva called back, "come through to the library."

Without delay, the small man stormed the Headmaster's private library with his wand held in both hands like a Muggle pistol. His jaw dropped when he saw Severus and six other people, including the supposedly deceased Dumbledore, sitting around casually. "I thought you were dead," he complained as he barely lowered his wand. His eyebrows rose again. "And you too, Miss Granger." Cautiously, he approached them, anger rising in his face. "What kind of bloody joke is this?" he demanded.

Merle laughed, but Severus stopped him. "Filius Flitwick is one of the deadliest duelists in the wizarding world," he cautioned the younger wizard. "He's won more awards and duels than the number of years we've both been alive."

Quickly sobered by his father's words, Merle stood. "My apologies, sir," he said.

"Again, I ask," Flitwick demanded, "what the bloody hell is going on?"

"Please be seated, Filius," Dumbledore said carefully. "I apologize for the deception, but it was necessary for our plans."

"Which are?" Flitwick snapped.

Severus cleared his throat. "Now, that word is out, and the school is secured, we can call in the Order and explain."

"Minerva," Dumbledore asked, "would you send for Mr. Potter and the rest of the Order?"

Murmurs and shouts and threats of revenge rumbled through the room. And the loudest voice of all belonged to Sirius Black. "Where is the traitor?" Sirius Black demanded. "I'll kill him!" A frightening wildness gleamed in his blue eyes. Septima Vector, hooking her arm through his, tried to calm him down. "No, Septima," he yelled, "I won't calm down!"

Harper stepped forward. "No!" he yelled back, shouting over the noise of the Order. "No one touches Severus Snape! He's my father!"

The room exploded with gasps. Sly conjectures as to who the young man's mother was. Molly, eyebrows raised, looked at Minerva. There was a question in her eyes bright brown eyes, and she quietly mouthed one word - "Lily." Minerva nodded once.

"So what?" Sirius roared and moved aggressively until he stood nose to nose with the younger man. "If he's killed Dumbledore, then I'm going to kill him."

Suddenly, Dumbledore's voice rose above the din. "Enough!" he shouted. "Enough! No good can come of fighting amongst ourselves!" Astonishment and shock ran around the room and consumed the Order of the Phoenix. They gazed in wonder at the hale and hearty Headmaster as he stood in the center of them. "Thank you all for coming to the meeting on such short notice," he said quietly. "Please forgive the deception."

"Not that I'm complaining that you're still alive, Dumbledore, but I think we're due an explanation here," Shacklebolt growled.

"Exactly so," he replied. "Please, let us all have a seat. Harry, I'd like for you to sit here between me and Professor Harper."

"Call me Merle when we're out of class, Harry," Harper instructed the younger wizard with a grin.

Harry looked at the wizard with confusion. "All right, Merle," he said slowly, trying out the name. Seeing a lone figure emerging from the back, he stood up. "Hermione!" he shouted, "We thought you were dead!"

"Please sit down, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "Everyone, please sit. We have much to discuss and a short time to prepare."

Dumbledore explained, "All of this is an elaborate scheme to keep Tom from the truth. When Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew killed Miss Granger's parents, they killed Charity Burbage, too. Tom and his followers believe that it was Hermione they killed. We've used this false belief to misinform Tom, telling him that Harry is helpless and emotionally unstable without her, that he isn't even capable of passing his classes without her. Now, Tom is overly confident and unprepared."

Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded with understanding. "And that's why you've pretended that Professor Snape murdered you, isn't it? To make Tom think we are weak."

"So we are to attack soon?" Lupin asked. "Is this why you've allowed everyone to believe that you've been murdered today?"

"Exactly," Dumbledore conceded, "we have a way for getting near Tom today, a way that will have him utterly confused, so that Harry can achieve his mission to destroy him."

"How?" Harry asked eagerly.

Severus explained, "When the Dark Lord hears that I have killed the Headmaster, he will be overjoyed. I'll contact him, and ask him to call a meeting of his Inner Circle. When he responds, I will apparate to him. You, Merle, and Dumbledore will side along apparate with me underneath your cloak."

"That's brilliant, Professor!" Harry exclaimed.

"What about the others? How will we get the Order there? They're going to need to keep the Inner Circle from interfering. That's what twenty, thirty Death Eaters?" Arthur Weasley asked.

"Fifteen," Dumbledore answered. "The Dark Lord has cut down the numbers of his elite since we've been allowing him to think they were unnecessary. Because he believes we are weak and Harry unstable, he sees no need to keep his forces up."

"Furthermore, each time he has lost one of his horcruxes," Severus put in, "he has lashed out at his elite. By the simple elimination of six of them, he has 'retired' six of the Inner Circle himself."

"We couldn't ask for better odds," Lupin said with a smile. "But how do we get there? We all can't apparate under Harry's cloak."

"We'll know in advance where the meeting will take place, Remus," Dumbledore explained. "Tom's usual meeting place is the Malfoy's ballroom, which he has apparently turned into a throne room for himself."

Kingsley smiled. "Bloody brilliant!" he added. "I'll get everyone in place -"

"Wait," Dumbledore said, "everyone will be hidden all around the area before they arrive, so we we'll need to set a series of strict charms around us. We'll be covered with a heavy layer of concealing charms as well as mufliato."

"I would suggest an anti-disapparation jinx to keep anyone from escaping," Shacklebolt added.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "I do insist that some of us stay here to guard the children and the castle. Minerva as Deputy Headmistress will be taking charge. Poppy and Miss Granger will remain to receive any wounded. Sirius, would you help with the defense of the students and Hogwarts?"

Black frowned. "I'd rather be in the direct fighting, Albus."

"I know you would, Sirius," Dumbledore said softly. "No one doubts your fighting ability or your courage."

"I want to protect Harry," Black insisted. "He is my godson. I should be there."

"I really appreciate that, Sirius," Harry said. "But I have to destroy Tom's last horcrux when I get there. It's the last thing I have to do before he can be destroyed. I can't be distracted."

"There's another one?" Lupin gasped. "That would make seven!"

"All the more reason I should be there!" Sirius cried. "Harry, I have -"

"No, Sirius," Harry replied firmly. The young man turned to face the Order. "Yes, there's one last horcrux," he announced, "and, it's me." He lifted his bangs, showing the lightning shaped scar. "When Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, my mother's love protected me from death. The spell ricocheted, and a tiny portion of his soul attached to me."

"No!" The room erupted again in gasps and denials. Chaotic refusals to accept the fact echoed around.

"It's true!" Harry raised his voice, and the crowd hushed. "That's why I can speak Parseltongue; that's why I can hear what he's thinking sometimes."

"But, Harry, that means you'll have to die," Lupin stated the oblivious.

Harry smiled sorrowfully. "And Tom will have to be the one to kill me," he told them, "because he'll actually be killing the last horcrux. When I'm down, all of you must attack. Professors Dumbledore and Snape will target Tom, and -" He paused to swallow. "-and we have a plan, that, hopefully, will save me."

"Do you understand?" Dumbledore added softly, "Do you see why I need you here? Sirius, will you accept responsibility for the castle and the children?" When Black nodded morosely, Dumbledore continued, "Thank you, Sirius. Now, I need everyone to gather with his squad and take your places. We'll give you thirty minutes to get in place and cast the necessary charms, and then Severus will contact Tom. Sirius, please have your force follow them out and secure the castle."

Quickly, everyone found his or her squad and apparated to Malfoy Manner. Under cover of the noise, Merle whispered, "Don't worry, Harry, your mother's blood magic protected you the first time, and it will protect you again through me. I'll be there to protect my little brother!"


	27. Chapter 27

The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me. There are some parts of this story that are taken directly from the source. If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Many, many thanks to my beta YellowAsphodel.

If you have any negative comments, keep them to yourself. Or as my grandma used to say, "If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut!"

Well, here it is - the ending. I'd like to thank all my faithful reviewers. I feel like I've made new and dear friends while posting this story.

 **Broken**

 **Chapter 27**

Harry stared at Merle. "Did you," he asked slowly, "did you just call me your brother? I mean, like your brother in arms, right?"

Merle grinned devilishly at him. "Nope," he said, "I mean, brother brother!"

"Harry," Madam Pomfrey said gently, "you and Merle have the same mother."

"But, but," Harry stuttered, "I thought you said Professor Snape was your father." The young man's face went ashen then blood red.

"Harry," Hermione said, "Harry! Listen! Your mum and Severus had a fling when they were young, too young, and Merle was born. She kept it a secret from him, and Merle was adopted out of the country to keep it a secret."

Slowly, Harry turned to look at Snape. "You and, and my mum?" His voice was tiny.

 _The knife is in_ , he thought coldly. _The knife is deep in the boy's gut. I could twist it, turn it, make it hurt just like James made me hurt._ He leaned forward for just a moment, allowing his hair to cover his face, before scooting back in the chair. Just at that instant, before he lifted his chin and swung the dark curtain of hair away from this face, he glanced over at Hermione. _No, there's no reason to let the pain continue. Twenty years ago Lily made her choice clear, and now I have to make mine._ Warily, he answered, "I loved your mother." He paused. "She did not return my feelings."

"Harry," Dumbledore pressed kindly, "what happened long ago between your mother and Severus is not your concern, nor is it yours, Merle." His blue eyes pinned both young men. "We must contend with the present."

Harry cast one more half-fearful glance at Snape, and another, longer speculative one at Hermione before he turned to face Dumbledore. "Right, Professor," he said with a nod, "so when Professor Snape contacts Tom, we will apparate with him."

"Yes," Dumbledore said carefully, "and when that happens, you will complete your mission. Do you understand?"

Potter set in jaw and nodded. "I remember, Professor," he said solemnly. "I won't let you down."

"Good," Dumbledore replied. "Remember that Merle carries Lily's blood, too. His being there will give you added protection." When Merle reached over and playfully punched Harry's shoulder, Dumbledore nodded. "You have the Invisibility Cloak and the Elder Wand, which you won fairly from me in a duel." He handed the boy a black, odd shaped item. "This is the Resurrection Stone," he said. "Keep it with you." He waited until Harry had safely shoved it into his pocket. "Severus, it is time."

Severus Snape inhaled deeply and stood up. Dumbledore, Harper, and Potter stood beside him. Slowly, he unbuttoned his cuff, and rolled up the sleeve to reveal the ugly mark. Pressing his wand to the mark, he sent out the call to his master and waited.

Poppy lowered her face for a moment, and then she caught Severus' eyes. "I'm so sorry, Severus, for everything. I -"

"I've forgiven you, Poppy," he interrupted her with curt words.

"Thank you," she whispered with a nod, "I'll go prepare the infirmary for the wounded." She stood up and glanced at Hermione. "Stay as long as you need, Hermione. Several of the sixth and seventh year students who have joined my Junior Healer's Club will help me get organized. I'll have Miss Patil round them up." With determined step, she left the room.

Minerva stood then, and she pulled Hermione up beside her. She walked slowly towards Dumbledore, and they hugged each other tightly. "You take care of yourself," she instructed him, her eyes bright with tears. Suddenly, she pulled him to her, and they exchanged a long, passionate kiss. "Damn, you Albus Dumbledore," she whispered harshly, "don't you dare die!" She shoved away from him then and turned her back. "Say your goodbyes quickly, Hermione," she instructed the girl. "It hurts less that way." Her long legs moving rapidly, she was soon out the door, calling for Sirius to help set guards on the battlements.

Dumbledore, blushing madly, cleared his throat, but there was a gleam in his blue eyes. "Um, yes," he said at last, "Severus, I need one more word with you alone."

"Hermione," Harry said, "I've just found out that you're alive, and now, I've got to leave you."

"I know, Harry," she told him tearfully, "and you might not survive this."

"If I do-" He stopped. "No," he said, deliberately changing his words, "when I do, we'll throw a huge party!"

She laughed. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "We'll have one huge celebration!"

"All right, then," he said as he squeezed her hands. "I'll see you after." He turned and headed towards Dumbledore and Snape.

"And I hope to see you then, Miss Hermione," Merle told her. He took her hand and kissed it. "In fact, I'm hoping to see a good deal more of you after this."

Hermione's eyes flew open. "Oh, um, Merle," she stammered, "I'd, I mean, I like you very much, but -" Unconsciously, her eyes drifted over to the tall man swathed in black. "- well, I don't -"

Merle's brows came together over his nose, and he jerked his head around to see his father watching them. He chuckled softly and kissed her hand again. "Why, Miss Hermione," he drawled, "you're in love with my father, aren't you?" He patted her hand, holding it gently.

She opened her mouth to deny it, but she found that she couldn't. She didn't even want to. "Yes," she whispered. "And I don't know what to do about it."

He laughed loudly at that. "Tell him!" he whispered back enthusiastically. Finally, he released her hand and drew away. "I'll be seeing you later either way, Little Lady," he told her. "Severus," he called loudly as he approached the small group, "Miss Hermione wants to say goodbye." He patted his father's shoulder as they passed.

The corner of Severus's lip quirked up gently as he walked to her. "Miss Granger," he said, only to be interrupted.

"We aren't going back to that," she told him.

He couldn't help but smile. "Yes," he whispered, "we are friends." He looked at her. His black eyes held hers firmly. "It's good to have a friend, a real friend." He huffed a small laugh. "It certainly took me long enough to find one."

Hermione grinned. "You have many friends, Severus, or would," she insisted, "if you'd just let them in."

"That's easier said than done."

"I know," she answered softly. There was a long, companionable silence between them. "Severus," she whispered. Her words were barely audible. "I know it's not the place, and it's certainly not the time, but I want you to know that I care -"

"I am aware of that, Hermione," he told her. He glanced quickly at the trio awaiting him on the balcony. "And I am happy," he added. "Perhaps your feelings for him can persuade Merle to stay here. I'd like to spend time with my son."

Hermione blinked twice. "Oh, no, Severus," she said with a gentle laugh. Stepping closer, she took his hands, and whispered, "It's you I -."

Suddenly, Severus clamped a hand to his left forearm. "I am being summoned," he told her. Dashing to the doorway, he helped Dumbledore and Potter under the invisibility cloak and took his son by the arm. Then they apparated away.

Hermione found him sitting on the bottom step leading to the hospital wing. She rushed over to him and hugged him fiercely. "Severus," she cried, "are you all right?"

Surprising both himself and her, he returned the young woman's hug. Then releasing her with a tiny smile, he sighed. "I am well, Hermione, surprisingly so."

She brushed at the dirt on his cheek. "It's like a miracle," she told him. "No one suffered any major injuries. Oh, there are scratches, a few broken bones, an odd hex or two, but nothing major."

His face clouded briefly. "I lost two former friends," he said softly. "Thicknese and Goyle were Death Eaters, but they were once my friends. They refused to surrender, and there was nothing anyone could do. Kingsley and Moody took them down."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Hermione said gently, "but Severus, they were never really your friends. The lot of them were selfish and conniving. They kept you around for what you could give them or do for them."

"Unlike you," he responded. "You're the only true friend I ever had. For some unfathomable reason, you like me for my own self."

She smiled. "How are you feeling? Now that it's over?"

"I don't really know," he told her. "For the first time in nearly thirty years, I no longer have a reason to live."

Fear and anger surged through her, and she gripped his shoulders sternly. "Don't you dare say that, Severus Snape!" she admonished him. "You have plenty to live for. There are people who care about you, who -"

"No, Hermione," he interrupted her gently. "I didn't mean that literally, not really." He sighed. "I mean that I no longer have a definite reason for existence. Lily's death has been revenged, and her son is now a man and more than capable of protecting himself." He dipped his head and paused a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers and continuing. "I've finally come to accept the fact that Lily did not love me," he told her, "at least not like I loved her."

Hermione held her breath a moment. "You said 'loved'. That's past tense," she said hesitantly. "Does that mean-"

"That I'm over her?" he asked with a sad little smile. "Lily-" His voice cracked on her name. "Lily will always hold a soft spot in my heart, Hermione. She was the only friend I ever had for a long time, the only one who cared about me -"

"Maybe that was true in the past, Severus," Hermione insisted, "but it's not anymore. You have plenty of friends, plenty of people who care about you if you'd only let them." She reached up and brushed his hair out of his face. "Plenty of people who love you."

He froze like a hunted rabbit.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. She didn't want to frighten him away. "I tried to tell you before you left, but there wasn't time." Tenderly she cupped his face between her hands, oblivious to the surrounding chaos. "I love you, Severus. I am in love with you." Suddenly, she leaned forward and kissed him.

To his utter shock, he let her. And without his even realizing it, he was suddenly holding her frantically, kissing her back until they were both breathless. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said when he had air enough. "I shouldn't have taken advantage like that."

"Severus Snape," she laughed at him, "that's ridiculous! I'm the one who kissed you!"

"That's not what I meant, Hermione," he told her. "I shouldn't have kissed you back, not like that, not until I know how I feel." He shifted on the stairs, putting space between them. "I won't take advantage of your feelings for me if I don't return them."

Her face crumpled. "You don't," she said in a tiny voice, "you don't care for me?"

"Oh, I do," he told her. "I love you. I love you as my best friend, my first friend." Tears began to well up in her soft brown eyes, and he turned and took her hands. "Hermione, I want your friendship first, last, and always. I need it. I've never had a true friend before, and I don't want to lose your friendship." It was his turn, then, to brush back her hair. "I want to be sure of my feelings first before we push for more. I don't want to use you -" His voice cracked as he said the last words. "- like Lily used me."

"Oh," she gasped softly. "But, but there is a chance? A chance that you'll love me like, like I love you?"

He smiled, his crooked teeth showing, and for once he wasn't self-conscious of them. "Yes," he told her. "There's a very good chance, but, Hermione," he said, his voice changing to a tone of warning, "I can't love in parts and pieces, and I've only ever loved one woman my whole life. I want to make sure -"

"I wouldn't want to be a replacement for Lily anyway," she declared. "I want you to love me, not some Lily wannabe."

He laughed then. "You've already proven yourself to be a far greater friend to me than she ever was. There's little chance that I'll confuse you with her." He squeezed her hands. "I just need time, Hermione, to sort out my feelings."

She nodded. "Yes, you do," she agreed. "I would even suggest that you see a counselor of some sort. Oh, don't go all grumpy on me! Severus, the trauma you went through as a child is more than enough to qualify you to speak with someone!"

"Maybe so," he growled. "But not right now." He stood, pulling her to her feet. "I'm an old man, Hermione," he told her. "Just listen to my back pop." He bent to stretch his back. "Perhaps a young woman like you needs a younger man," he suggested, "like -"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" she asked softly. "You can't, you know. My heart is decided."

His face softened, the crow's feet around his eyes crinkling its corners. "Not at all," he told her with a brief smile, "I'm too selfish to push you away. But I care for you enough to want what's best for you." His eye caught sight of Merle heading towards them. "And for my son."

Merle clapped his father on the shoulder. "Good morning, old man!" he drawled loudly. "Miss Hermione." He smiled, reached out for her hand, and kissed it. "I've been sent to invite you both to a rip-roaring party to be held tonight in the Great Hall. A victory celebration the like of which the UK hasn't seen since VE day!"

"Thank you, Merle," Severus said, "but I don't think I should -"

"Of course you should!" Hermione told him. "A victory celebration is a perfect way to start a new life. You're a hero, Severus."

"Why, it's settled then," Merle said. He draped an arm across his father's shoulders and guided him towards the revelry.

Hermione put her arm through Severus' other arm, insisting on his escorting her into the crowd. "We love you," she whispered in his ear. "It's time you learned to love yourself."


End file.
